Clash of Two Wastelands - Part I - The Capital Mojave
by XxKonspiracyxX
Summary: (Part 3 of trilogy, after Legacy of the Capital & Misadventures of the Mojave) Tensions rise as the Second Battle for Hoover Dam looms in the near future, and the courier's allies in the Capital are in peril. Battling with her slipping sanity, Sandra struggles to win the Mojave alongside two unlikely partners, Arcade Gannon and Vulpes Inculta. It all comes down to this.
1. DC's Dawn of Darkness

Two worlds, one Sandra.

It began in DC, when the girl fled from Vault 101. She faced death numerous times on the treacherous road west, and in Dog City Denver, she met the greatest of Caesar's frumentarii for the first time; Vulpes Inculta.

After their encounter, Sandra took up work as a simple courier, broken by the war with the Enclave and determined to start fresh, paying her traumatic past no mind. But storm clouds gathered in the Mojave Wasteland, and Sandra became swept up in the chaos; she met a young junkie named Niner, and soon after, she met the Followers doctor, Arcade Gannon, as well as Raul Tejada, Craig Boone, and many others.

After a long-winded struggle and a plethora of complicated situations, Sandra and Arcade agreed to take a certain banished frumentarius under their wing, Arcade reluctant to do so. With Vulpes as an unlikely ally and with many bridges of comradery to build before the next war, Sandra and the others begin their journey to rescue the Mojave Wasteland... and as she does, she can't help but notice that this sensation of oncoming danger, of war on the horizon, feels a bit too familiar.

But enough of that. If you've come this far, you're in all the way; let's skip the recap and get this show on the road. Ring-a-ding-ding, baby.

* * *

Unlike the rest of the Capital Wasteland, Megaton was positively thriving.

Fawkes the supermutant still maintained his position as the town's protector, and Mr. Burke - even now, five years down the road - was still looking after the town as its new mayor, just as the lone wanderer had asked him to. The irony never slipped his mind; each and every day, when he'd make his morning coffee, greet the newcomers to the town, and talk to Gob at the saloon, he'd remember the first day he set foot in Megaton with the intention of destroying it. It was astonishing that he somehow became the town's protector. He, of all people...

Still, it did become a bit lonely after a while. Gob was always busy, and Fawkes wasn't much for conversation. Bryan Wilks had visited a few times, but he spent most of his time at the Citadel with Sarah Lyons. Bryan had recently risen in rank. He was no longer an initiate; he'd become a Brotherhood Knight under Sarah's wing. Mr. Burke remembered receiving his letter two weeks ago, grinning weakly as he read Bryan's chicken-scratch handwriting as he sipped on a bowl of molerat soup.

He thought of Bryan when he awoke earlier in the day. Mr. Burke's day had started late, as the previous night was spent drinking at the bar and making hearty conversation with some out-of-towners. He didn't think to question why Megaton was obtaining so many new citizens and tourists. He thought the Capital must've been thriving outside of Megaton's walls; Aqua Pura was being distributed all over, and people arriving to the town seemed healthier, happier, and even cleaner. He didn't imagine anything being wrong in the Capital Wasteland, not since the Enclave was eradicated.

He was wrong.

He sat alone at the kitchen table downstairs around noon, eating a leftover bowl of noodles and reading the newspaper. Three-Dog was on the radio, and Wadsworth was hovering around dusting the wanderer's old paintings and belongings. Mr. Burke's eyes trailed after the robot, watching as Wadsworth ran his feather duster over a folded set of clothes on the nearby shelf. It was a vault suit, one that had been modified into an armored traveler's outfit. How long had it been since she left, he wondered...?

"Five years tomorrow, I think," he murmured aloud.

"Is something the matter, Sir?" Wadsworth asked.

"Nothing, Wadsworth," Mr. Burke replied. "Thank you for asking."

He went silent again, flipping the page and skimming over an article regarding Brotherhood politics. It was captioned with bold letters, reading; **BROTHERHOOD TURNING OVER A NEW LEAF? LYONS TO STEP DOWN?**

"The Lyons' Pride," Mr. Burke muttered. "They're the only part of the Brotherhood that's even remotely humane to the rest of the world. If they step down, all hell will break loose..."

 _Knock, knock._

Mr. Burke blinked, glimpsing up at the front door. He wasn't expecting any visitors today. Perhaps he'd left his wallet at the saloon again, and Gob was here to return it to him...

He stood and opened the front door, but he was surprised to see neither Gob nor Fawkes outside. Before him stood two silvery, power-armored individuals; a blonde woman and a sixteen-year-old boy, both of whom he recognized.

"You're both a long way from home," Mr. Burke said, stepping aside. "Please, come in. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

Sarah Lyons and Bryan Wilks maneuvered into the house, careful not to let their power armor scrape against the doorframe. Bryan deactivated his suit and stepped out of it, but Sarah kept hers on.

"Good to see you," Bryan smiled.

"And you," Mr. Burke replied. "My, you've grown."

"That's what happens when you feed 'em," Sarah chuckled. "How have you been, Mr. Burke?"

"Oh, same old," Mr. Burke said. "Nothing exciting. I rather like this peaceful lifestyle... though, it does get a bit dull at times..."

"Hey, dull is good," Sarah told him. "It's a lot better than running from mutants trying to blow your face off all the time."

Mr. Burke nodded. "That's true enough. Although... I suspect you didn't come here to exchange casual conversation. Is something the matter?"

Sarah's smile faded. She traded serious looks with Bryan.

"It's... a long story," Sarah began. "But... I thought you should know. I'm not sure what you can do, but since you're the mayor now... maybe you can..."

"What's going on?" Mr. Burke inquired.

Sarah took in a deep breath. "It's... the Brotherhood. Elder Lyons isn't in control anymore. Some people are saying he hasn't been in control for a while now. His new adviser is running the show... in fact... he's sort of taken over. He's barely older than Bryan, and he's trying to rule the Brotherhood with an iron fist. It's not looking good."

"Who is it?" Mr. Burke wondered.

"Well... he demanded that we hold an election," Sarah replied. "Apparently, a lot of Brotherhood members agree with him. He thinks that Elder Lyons is wasting time and resources on civilians rather than the original goals in the Codex. A lot of people agree with him, too. It's the Outcasts all over again... only this time, they're winning. They're taking over the Brotherhood, talking about expanding, taking over settlements and branching out to Boston..."

"But who _is_ it?" Mr. Burke asked again. "Who's taking Elder Lyons' place?"

"Elder Maxson," Sarah said grimly. "He won the election. The Brotherhood are preparing for expeditions, packing up to leave the Citadel."

"And go where?" Mr. Burke questioned.

Sarah and Bryan swapped severe expressions again.

"Here?" Mr. Burke said.

Sarah slowly nodded.

"Why would they come here?" Mr. Burke asked her. "What do they want with Megaton? What did Megaton ever do to them?"

"Nothing," Sarah said. "It's not about being provoked... it's about taking over. I know the Brotherhood, and I know Maxson. If they come here... they're gonna take over the whole town. They'll relieve you of your power, and if anyone shows even the slightest hint of resistance, the Brotherhood will wipe them out."

"That's insane," Mr. Burke protested. "No one in this town's done anything to warrant an invasion."

"That's why I'm telling you," Sarah stated. "I was thinking... if I warned you, then maybe you could prepare an evacuation. Warn everyone. Tell them to get out of town. Or, maybe... if you have enough people, and enough guns... you might be able to beat the Brotherhood. Either way, Megaton wouldn't have stood a chance if they got hit without warning. Now, you can make a plan. Decide if you're gonna fight or evacuate."

"We couldn't take all of them on," Mr. Burke groused. "No, we... we aren't soldiers. We don't have power armor. We're outnumbered. There are too many disadvantages... we couldn't win..."

"Then run," Sarah pleaded. "You've got to run. You've got to get out of the Capital Wasteland. Maxson won't stop until every town is under a Brotherhood flag. Maxson is a bloodthirsty bastard. He's a tyrant. It's better if you run. Living under his dictatorship... I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Mr. Burke asked. "You're Brotherhood."

"I know," Sarah sighed. "I know... and it's treason. If anyone found out that I came here to tip you off, they'd execute me in front of everyone. But I had to. You've got to do something. We all put too much work into the Capital to let everyone die at Maxson's hand."

"What do you propose I do?" Mr. Burke said, growing irritated at the whole situation. "They won't believe that the Brotherhood is preparing an invasion force. The Brotherhood have been helping the citizens of the wasteland for over five years. They have a good reputation with the citizens."

"Then gather whoever you can and run like hell," Sarah replied flatly. "That's all you can do."

"And go where?" Mr. Burke asked. "I've got nowhere else to go. None of us do."

"Well... we had an idea," Bryan chimed in. "Sarah says that there are lost chapters of the Brotherhood all over the country. We might find some help if we travel west. Sarah knows how to track them. She knows what to look for."

"How would you make a journey like that?" Mr. Burke said.

"Vertibird," Sarah told him. "I might've borrowed a vertibird from the Citadel, so... we can fly where ever we want."

"We couldn't fly everyone," Mr. Burke replied. "There's not nearly enough room in the vertibird for everyone in Megaton, much less the rest of the Capital Wasteland."

"Well... if you can't put together an evacuation, then you could come with us," Sarah suggested. "There are other branches of the Brotherhood who were exiled for the same reasons that Elder Lyons lost his position of power. We'll find more Brotherhood chapters who believe in helping people. We'll find help... and when we do, we can organize a new Brotherhood. We can fight off the Maxson branch, and maybe reclaim the Capital after he takes over. If nothing else... at least you'll be away from this place. The Capital is about to fall. There's no stopping it."

"Preposterous..." Mr. Burke grumbled. "After all we've been though... after the war... after..."

"I know," Sarah said sadly. "It's a lot of hard work down the drain. But we can fight them. We just have to get out of here first. We have to run... to live to fight another day."

Mr. Burke turned his head, staring at the vault 101 armor on the shelf.

Sarah frowned. "I know... she wouldn't be happy about this. She lost more than anyone when we won Project Purity."

"And all for nothing," Mr. Burke growled. "It was all for nothing."

"No it wasn't," Sarah argued. "We gave the entire wasteland clean water to drink. That was a huge victory."

Mr. Burke didn't seem comforted by this.

"I can't tell them," he mumbled. "The town's people... I'm not really a people person. I don't think they'd believe me..."

"Well, who would they believe?" Sarah asked.

"Her," Mr. Burke said, pointing to the vault armor. "Unfortunately, she isn't here."

"Is there anyone else who could help you convince them?" Sarah questioned. "Anyone?"

"Possibly..." Mr. Burke said. "Let's go. You'll have to come with me. If they see you here, they might believe me. And there's one other person who could help... someone who talks to the town's people much more than I do."

The three of them left the lone wanderer's house and crossed the town, climbing the balcony to Gob's Saloon. Mr. Burke explained the situation to Gob.

"Goddamn..." Gob rasped. "What a load of..."

"I know," Mr. Burke said. "I'll call a town meeting from the balcony. We can talk to them from up here. Help me get the town's people to gather around the bomb. They all need to hear this."

Gob did as Mr. Burke asked. It took a while for Gob, Burke, Bryan, and Sarah to deliver the news to everyone in town. By the time five pm rolled around, the entire town stood in a crowded circle around the Megaton bomb. Mr. Burke stood at the balcony hovering over the town's people, accompanied by Gob and Sarah at either side. Mr. Burke spoke first, explaining the situation tot he town's people best he could, then he allowed Gob to take over. When Gob was finished, Sarah completed the announcement by telling the town's people every detail she knew about the oncoming invasion. When the speech was over, the town's people began whispering amongst each other suspiciously. A few of them were shouting in protest, but most of them simply gossipped with each other.

"If you choose to evacuate, we advise that you head west, further from the tyranny unfolding here in the Capital," Mr. Burke told them. "Fawkes will lead the evacuation if you choose to accompany him. No one is more qualified to protect you than Fawkes."

Fawkes, who stood in the crowd below, gave Mr. Burke a salute.

"And where the fuck are _you_ going?" Jericho shouted out. "You just gonna abandon the town?!"

"I'm going with the remnants of the Lyons' Pride here," Mr. Burke replied, motioning to Sarah. "We're going to travel west as well. We're going to look for assistance from the remaining chapters of the Brotherhood. We have to-"

 _BANG._

The gates of Megaton ripped apart in a fiery explosion.

The town's people spun around, screaming in anger and panic. Sarah gasped.

Brotherhood Knights marched into the town, guns at the ready, all of them following behind a disgruntled young man in an overcoat. The man stroked his five o'clock shadow, his intense eyes zeroing in on the balcony directly across from him. He glared at Sarah and Bryan.

"I expected such treachery from you," Elder Maxson spat. "You think you can run off with a vertibird - _my_ vertibird - and none of us would notice? How _dare_ you betray my Brotherhood. Sarah Lyons - Bryan Wilks - I hearby sentence you to death. Kill them!"

In no time at all, Megaton erupted in chaos. Citizens were scrambling away or pulling out their guns. Fawkes unleashed a rapid-fire assault from his gatling laser, and the Brotherhood opened fire. Mr. Burke shoved Sarah away from the balcony, forcing her into the saloon. Gob and Bryan followed behind them and slammed the door shut.

"Where do we go?!" Bryan exclaimed. "They'll get up here! They'll get to us! We can't escape from here!"

"Back door," Gob said. "Hurry up. Come on."

Gob led all of them out the back door. The four of them darted off the metal walkway and ran toward the metal wall on Megaton's outskirt. Sarah shoved one of the metal slabs aside with all her might, creating an opening just big enough for all of them to squeeze through. They crawled through the wall and ran away from the town, trying not to listen to the shouts and gunfire behind them.

Thankfully, Sarah thought to park the vertibird behind the town rather than at the front gate. She, Bryan, Burke, and Gob dove into the vertibird. Sarah powered it up and brought it into the air, the vertibird wobbling and finding its balance. Sarah didn't wait until she was at a safe level of elevation before steering forward and propelling the vertibird away from Megaton at once.

Gob and Mr. Burke stuck their heads out of either door, watching as Megaton grew smaller and smaller behind them, until finally, it was out of sight.

They both frowned, seating themselves in the back and putting on their safety belts. Bryan was up front beside Sarah. None of them spoke for a while.

The vertibird coasted across the sky, eventually leaving the Capital behind.

"Well..." Sarah sighed after half an hour of silence. "We tried."


	2. Nightdreams & Daymares

"What the f-"

Sandra shot out of bed, sweat sticking her tank top to her, her hairs flying amok, her heart thrashing. Her Novac apartment remained silent apart from her rapid breaths. Arcade blinked himself awake in the bed across from her, but Vulpes remained sound asleep, sitting upright on the couch (which Old Lady Gibson was kind enough to give them), arms crossed, eyes closed.

Arcade Gannon rose from bed, his eyes squinty, as he was barely awake. The doctor knelt at her bedside, as was the usual routine. He was quite accustomed to talking Sandra back to sleep after a nightmare.

"I saw the Capitol..." Sandra sputtered. "In my dream... the Citadel exploded, and... Charon was there... and the Enclave showed up, but... no... the Enclave weren't the bad guys... this time... this time..."

"Sandra, calm down," Arcade said soothingly.

"It was the Brotherhood," Sandra gasped, twisting her face in confusion. "The Brotherhood... the Lyons' Pride... they were killing everyone... everyone in the city... all the people they saved... they were killing... everyone... why would they... why would they..."

"Sandra, it was only a dream," Arcade told her. "Come back to reality, will you? Everything's alright."

Sandra took a moment to compose herself. She loved the support she'd get from Arcade, but she hated these restless nights with a passion. It felt pathetic, snapping awake in a panic every other night like a looney escaped from a psych ward. She wondered how psychotic she must've looked to Arcade every time he was forced to exercise his inner psychologist.

"Sorry..." she breathed. "I jus... I never dream about the Capitol anymore. Usually... when I have a bad dream... it's something about the Legion, or the NCR, or... I don't know... I haven't dreamed about the Capitol in a long time... why did that happen..."

"Well, think about it," Arcade offered calmly. "We've been trying to find the western Brotherhood for nearly a month now, and you've been terrified of what we'll find, haven't you?"

"Not _terrified,"_ Sandra protested. "I just don't wanna find them and learn that they're totally hostile."

"Well, exactly," Arcade said. "You're worried about the Brotherhood's alliance, and that fear manifested in your dream. The only Brotherhood you've ever known was the Lyons' Pride back in the Capitol, so... that's what you envisioned."

"I guess..." Sandra sighed. The more she thought about their fruitless attempts at contacting the Brotherhood of Steel, the more she wanted to return to Vegas and have a few rounds with Niner and Raul. Her other friends - Raul, the gunslinging ghoul, and Niner, the lovable junkie she met on the road from Goodsprings - were maintaining New Vegas from the Lucky 38 in her absence. Since Mr. House was out of the picture, she needed somebody to maintain stability while she was away... but she and her two current companions had been on the road for weeks now, and she longed to return to the simple life of blowing caps and drinking at the slots.

Still, she had to admit, it was nice to be back out on the road, traveling and worrying only about what she'd eat for supper and where she'd sleep for the night. When she was in Vegas, her brain plagued her with constant concerns about the future, how she'd run Vegas, how the economy would stay put together, and how she was expected to engineer a future for the Independent Vegas she now owned. But out here... none of that mattered. Out here, Sandra was simply Courier Six, only obligated to travel the roads and look after whoever was by her side. Perhaps it was better that she was traveling like a simple courier; she wasn't made for the pressure of running an economy. For now, that was a burden that didn't belong to her.

"Maybe we don't need to find the Brotherhood," Sandra suggested. "Joshua Graham wrote me when we were in Freeside. He said he needed help, and I never got back to him. Maybe we should focus on that instead."

"You can't help the tribes in Utah if we don't get Vegas situated first," Arcade told her.

"Yeah, but if I help them again, they'd be indebted to me," Sandra replied. "We'd form more allies. We'd have a bigger army."

"Well, I'm not so sure that's a good idea..."

"Why not?"

"Because, last time you went to Utah, you stumbled in by yourself traveling with a caravan. This time... you'd be with us."

"So?"

"Well... I don't think Joshua Graham would have any problems with _me,_ particularly, but..." Arcade glimpsed at the couch where Vulpes was sleeping. "I don't know about him. The Legion used to send assassins after Joshua Graham, remember? And the primary soldiers they used were frumentarii."

"Like Vulpes..." Sandra muttered. "Yeah, but Vulpes isn't Legion anymore."

"Try explaining that to Joshua Graham," Arcade said seriously. "I've never met the man, but from what you've told me, he doesn't sound like the understanding type. Vulpes was the greatest of his rank... the same rank of Legionaries who've been trying to kill Joshua since his botched execution. Think about it. Do you really think they'd get along if they were reunited? For all we know, Vulpes himself might've tried to kill Joshua at some point."

"I guess..." Sandra mumbled. "Damn. I wish I didn't kill that old guy in the Sierra Madre. He used to be Brotherhood. I might've gotten a lead off him if he survived..."

"Wasn't he the guy who put an explosive collar on your neck?"

"Yeah."

"Hm. Somehow I don't think he would've been all that cooperative."

"True."

Sandra rubbed her eyes, her adrenaline fading as quickly as it had come. Now she wanted desperately to flump back onto her pillow and sleep.

"We'll talk to him about Utah tomorrow," Arcade figured. "Or rather... _you'll_ talk to him about it."

Sandra nodded in agreement. Arcade had agreed to allow Vulpes into their group, but the two of them still didn't get along well.

"Goodnight, Sandra."

Arcade returned to bed, allowing Sandra to fall asleep again. Luckily, her nightmares didn't come back this time.

* * *

"Utah."

Vulpes' voice was icy and distant, as usual. It was almost noon; Arcade had woken early and left to buy supplies for the trip, giving Sandra an opening to talk to Vulpes one on one. The two of them stood on the Novac motel's balcony. Vulpes had his arms crossed, his eyes glaring downward, his face pensive.

"You want to assist J.. the burned man." Vulpes gulped. "Why?"

"He could be a powerful ally," Sandra told him, trying to make her reasoning sound as unsentimental as possible. "If we get him and his tribes on our side... I mean, I'm already on good terms with them. Joshua would help me out if I helped him."

Vulpes almost winced. He still didn't like hearing the burned man's name; back in the old days, he would've been crucified for speaking the name Joshua Graham.

"Foolish," he said. "It's risky on an unprecedented level... and it's foolish to assume he'd return the favor to you."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Because he's the Malpais Legate."

"So?"

Vulpes turned to her, his sharp blue eyes meeting hers.

"You haven't seen him the way I have," he stated. "Making alliances and setting them up for a betrayal is a Legion past time. Only one man in the Legion ever surpassed me in that respect. The burned man."

"Yeah, but he's not like that anymore," Sandra replied. "I met him. He helped me before. We helped each other... and then he got me home."

"You're naive. If you elect to hunt down the burned man, you and your doctor will be going it alone."

"What? No. I need you with me."

"He wouldn't be happy to see me. Any hope of striking a deal with him would be shattered the moment he laid eyes upon me."

"But..."

"Your plan can't involve me. If you think he can be an ally, then make him _your_ ally. He won't be mine."

Sandra sighed. Arcade had said the very same thing; Joshua wouldn't be happy to see any frumentarii, the same Legionaries who had been sent to assassinate him on numerous occasions. But she was certain she could convince Joshua of Vulpes' redemption. If she told Joshua the entire story, he of all people would understand. Joshua was the first person in the world to ever redeem himself from the Legion, Vulpes being the second. If anyone understood Vulpes' situation, it would be Joshua.

"He's the only other person ever to leave the Legion alive," Sandra said. "He's the only person who's ever done what you've done. He'd understand once I explained things to him."

"He might. But you may not get the chance to explain. He'd attack us on sight if I came with you."

"No he wouldn't. He knows me. We're friends."

"Tch..." Vulpes rubbed his forehead. "You and your optimism. Friendship doesn't stop enemies from killing one another."

"But you're not enemies anymore."

"Are we not? Why? Because he and I were both thrown out of the Legion? That doesn't make us allies."

"God, you're a chicken."

Vulpes blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're a chicken." Sandra tried not to grin. The offended look on Vulpes' face told her everything she needed to know; this was getting through to him. "You're scared that he's gonna kick your ass. Chicken."

"I fear nothing," Vulpes growled.

"Prove it," Sandra challenged.

They glared into each other for several seconds.

"Fine," Vulpes snarled. "I'll go. But if he chooses to crucify all of us, it's on your head."

"Good deal," Sandra laughed. "You're so easy."

"Meaning?"

"Nothing. Let's get ready to hit the road."

* * *

"Here we are."

The vertibird seemed to have landed in a remote desert, hundreds of miles away from Megaton and the rest of the Capitol Wasteland. Sarah, Gob, Bryan, and Mr. Burke all sat still in the machine, looking out the windows and observing the Mojave.

"Where exactly is here?" Mr. Burke asked.

"Nevada," Sarah announced, fiddling with the vertibird's radio. "I've been following a signal here. It's an SOS sent by a Brotherhood party... but I can't tell exactly where it's coming from. But the good news is, we know there's a branch of the Brotherhood here somewhere, which means we'll get some help. It's a start."

"A start..." Mr. Burke grumbled. "We've played this game from start to finish and it never ends well. I let some child convince me to spare Megaton... and even to protect the place. I knew I should've wiped the wretched place off the map when I had the chance. None of this would've happened."

Mr. Burke angrily thrust the metal door open and slammed it shut, standing outside and glaring into the desert.

"He doesn't mean that," Sarah told Bryan. "He's just really stressed. He put a lot of effort into maintaining that town... and because of Elder Maxson, it ended up being all for nothing. I wouldn't be very happy about that either."

"Well... I always dreamed of making it big," Gob commented, pointing out the window. "Maybe that ain't such a pipe dream around these parts. Look at that tower. People must be livin' it up here."

Sarah and Bryan followed his trail of vision, spotting the Lucky 38's brilliant lights in the distance. Night had fallen, and the tower shone over the wasteland, looking impossibly beautiful, brightening the night sky in a way that nothing ever had back in the Capitol.

One by one, everyone departed the vertibird, absorbing the scenery and slightly surprised to see that there were no gigantic crumbling buildings or massive piles of debris in sight.

"Look there," Sarah said, motioning up the hill, where a couple of tents, a few trailers, and some lanterns would be seen in the distance. "Looks like an outpost."

"Great," Mr. Burke remarked. "And there's a great big tower surrounded by casinos down south. Hmph. Maybe I've been in the wrong wasteland this whole time. This feels more like my kind of scene. Viva New Vegas..."

"Don't tell me you're gonna turn into a douchbag again," Sarah sighed.

"No... but I will say, seeing this place... it's reminded me of something," Mr. Burke replied, his old, eerie voice returning to him, making him sound as sleazy as he had when he first met Sandra five years ago. "I've really lost my way. I've forgotten who I am... my talents... everything I excell at. Trying to do the right thing... leaves you vulnerable to those who aren't afraid to do the wrong thing. But if you treat life like a game of chess, then... you can plan around the bad guys. You can end them long before they try to end you."

"Now you sound like Maxson," Sarah said. "Please don't lose your mind, Burke. We can start over here. We can make something in this place. This isn't just some redeeming mayor gig... this is a _real_ fresh start. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

"I suppose," Mr. Burke murmured ominously. "And God delivered me to New Vegas... the land of prosperity and manipulation. My kind of world."

"Yeah..." Gob muttered awkwardly, squeezing between Sarah and Mr. Burke. "So, uh... I'm gonna head up the hill and see what these people can tell us about the area. Maybe they're renting out those trailers. If they are, we'll have a place to sleep tonight."

Gob marched toward the 188 Outpost, and the others followed him. The four of them walked under the concrete bridge, and Bryan stopped, spotting another young boy sitting on a colored rug, surrounded by articles of random junk. The boy was wearing a convoluted metal contraption on his head, gazing thoughtfully into nothingness.

"Um... hey," Bryan said, approaching him. "What're you doing out here?"

"Thinking," the boy replied distantly.

Bryan gave him an odd look. Sarah and Mr. Burke exchanged peculiar glances.

"Do you want to hear my thoughts?" the boy asked. "I can forecast your life for you."

"Is that what you do? You tell fortunes?" Bryan wondered. "Can you tell us a fortune?"

"Sure," the boy agreed. "That'll be ten caps."

Bryan dug out ten caps from his savings and handed them over.

"Now... what do you want me to think about?" the Forecaster inquired. "I can think about you... or this place... or the whole world."

"Um... think about this place," Bryan requested. "This outpost... the Mojave... we're not really familiar with the place, so..."

The Forecaster nodded and removed the medical device from his head, taking in a deep breath.

"Many down, but four still rise," he began, staring upward and appearing to be talking to the sky. "Four lone wanderers, but they're not alone. Lonely with each other. Reliant on each other. Bloody rain will fall around us... but not kill us. Cleanse us. This outpost, a place of many meetings, crucial for the Mojave, painful yet mending to the hearts of the wanderers... not just four wanderers. Six. Six wanderers. The lonely ghoul... the rebelling girl... the orphaned boy... the redeemed monster... the sad outcast... and the broken courier. Forecast; scary with a chance of reunion."

"Reunion?" Mr. Burke asked. "With whom?"

"Sad outcast? Who's that supposed to be?" Sarah questioned. "And who's the broken courier?"

"Stop asking him questions," Bryan told them, noticing the pained look on the Forecaster's face. "It's hurting him."

"Sorry," the Forecaster said, placing the metal contraption back onto his head. "I can't think for too long..."

"That was quite impressive," Mr. Burke said. "I think 'redeemed monster' suits me quite well."

"Thanks for your time," Sarah said politely. "We'd better be going now."

They turned, preparing to walk up the hillside, but Sarah stopped when she noticed someone hovering over the railing above her, staring down at her like she'd never seen anything quite like her before. It was a girl, though most of her body was covered in a thick brown coat, a pointed hood draped over her head, her eyes wide with curiosity as she ogled at Sarah.

Sarah was giving her the same look. The girl up the hill was wearing scribe robes. Brotherhood robes.

At once, Sarah jogged up the hill, hoping to speak to the mysterious Brotherhood woman, but after she ran past her companions, she bumped into someone, her power armor nearly knocking them to the ground.

"Oh... sorry!" Sarah exclaimed, glad to see that she hadn't knocked the NCR sodier to the pavement.

"It's fine," Boone replied grouchily, straightening his beret. "Why're you in that power armor? Are you on your way to guard the shipment too?"

"Um... no," Sarah answered. "I'm not with your people, um... what is that, anyway?" She pointed to the two-headed bear on Boone's chest.

"The symbol of the New California Republic," Boone told her. "You must be new around here if you haven't heard of us."

"M-military?" Sarah said. "Huh. We don't have any kind of law and order back where I come from..."

"You're lucky you came here, then," Boone stated. "We're working toward securing New Vegas. You'll be a lot safer here than anywhere else."

"What makes you think a military takeover is the best option?" Sarah asked, thinking of Maxson and feeling her stomach churn.

Boone narrowed his eyes at her from behind his glasses. "It's the only option. Any other option is anarchy."

"Oh... you're that type," Sarah replied, her tone flattening. "Well... nice talking to you. Seeya."

Sarah left the conversation and meandered up the hill, the others following suit. She spotted the girl in the scribe robes at the balcony, still staring at her, almost marveling.

"So..." Sarah began, approaching the girl. "I've never seen you before, but I'm guessing you and I have a lot in common."

"Uh... yeah," the girl, Veronica, replied with a smile. "I was wondering... because no one in these parts struts around in power armor as proudly as you are. Especially not in NCR territory. Thing is... I know everyone in my branch, and I know you're not one of them. Where did you come from? Are you really Brotherhood, or did you just salvage that armor off some guy you found laying dead in a crater?"

"I'm really Brotherhood," Sarah confirmed. "My name's Sarah. And you?"

"Veronica."

"Nice to meet you. So... do you think you could show us the ropes? I've never been in the Mojave before. Maybe you could introduce us to our fellow western brothers."

"Oh... you were looking for another chapter of the Brotherhood? That's why you came here?"

"Yup."

"Well... there _is_ a chapter here, but... they're kinda reclusive. Well... I guess _paranoid_ would be a better word for them. I don't know if they'd want to see anyone from the outside, even fellow Brotherhood members."

"Really? I followed a Brotherhood SOS here. It seemed to me like they were calling out for help."

"You did? Oh... that must be from Helios One. We sent out that signal ages ago. I didn't know it was still broadcasting..."

They both went quiet for a moment.

"I guess I can show you around," Veronica offered. "I'll try to talk my family into meeting with you guys next time I see them."

"Thanks," Sarah said gratefully.

Veronica introduced them to the Slop N' Shop, and after a cheap dinner, the four of them paid to use one of the trailers for the night. Sarah, Gob, Bryan, and Mr. Burke curled into their sleeping bags, all of them feeling estranged, none of them knowing what they were going to do from here.

Mr. Burke was up the longest, and when he finally fell asleep, a dark nightmare daunted upon him, a strange delusion of his first visit to Megaton, of Sandra's face, of what might've happened if the lone wanderer had agreed to destroy Megaton...


	3. The Judgement of Joshua Graham

When the sun rose, Sandra and her friends arrived to the 188 Outpost about half an hour after Mr. Burke and his crew left.

Sandra, Arcade, Vulpes, and their pet deathclaw, Scar, were all packed and ready for a road trip to Utah, hoping to reach Joshua Graham. Recently, a letter from Joshua arrived to the Mormon Fort, requesting assistance from the courier, and Sandra - in need of allies and wanting to help an old friend - was happy to oblige.

After inhaling a late breakfast at the Slop N' Shop, Sandra headed down the hill, hoping to visit the Forecaster again. She'd visited him numerous times in the past, and she found him incredibly interesting.

"Hey kiddo," Sandra smiled down at him, placing a handful of caps on his blanket. "Got a fortune for me today?"

"Sure thing, Sandra." The Forecaster removed his medical device and took in a deep inhalation.

Sandra waited with rapt anticipation. She loved hearing his ominous thoughts.

"Two to the head... three to the canyon... but altogether, the sky spells seven. Seven wanderers, different paths, same destination. The lonesome ghoul. The lost girl. The redeemed man. The orphan boy. The ambitious doctor. The ruthless fox. The broken courier. Many friends, also enemies. Many allies, also rivals. The burned man... itching to burn again. The vengeful courier, choosing mercy. The Brotherhood... friends to the courier. War is the dawn that awakens us from this long night, a night of adventures, a night of bonds, a night of blood. I see a name in the stars... Randall. Randall guides the courier... like James once did. Arcade protects the courier... like Charon once did. The courier adopts the wasteland strays... lost, yet unwavering. Broken, yet strong. The strays resist, though they don't want to... Charon. Vulpes. One and the same; adopted strays. A long night of seeking... and what will be found at dawn? War. Forecast; wild with a chance of retribution."

The Forecaster winced, quickly grabbing his medical device and wedging it onto his head again.

"Sorry..." he said. "It... it hurts a lot... a lot more than usual..."

"It's okay," Sandra replied distantly, the fortune seeping into her brain like water to a sponge. She'd heard plenty of amazingly accurate fortunes from him before, but never one this detailed. He'd mentioned her father and Charon, both long dead. Not only that, but he'd mentioned a lot of people she'd never heard of before. The lonesome ghoul? The lost girl? Who were all those nameless people he listed off? And who was Randall? Sandra was certain she'd never met anyone named Randall before.

The Forecaster hunched over, still cradling his head. Sandra felt a pinch of guilt.

"Here, kiddo." Sandra knelt and placed an extra handful of caps in his lap. "You deserve a tip. I'm sorry it hurt so much this time."

"Thanks..." the Forecaster replied, smiling weakly.

Sandra marched up the hill, seeing Arcade and Vulpes at the Slop N' Shop's bar, sitting three seats away from each other and finishing off their breakfasts.

"Seeing the Forecaster again?" Arcade asked. "Hear anything interesting?"

"Yeah..." Sandra murmured. "He gave me a really weird fortune this time. I couldn't understand half of it. He talked about the Brotherhood... and my dad... and Charon. He started talking about people I don't know, and then he mentioned you guys. I couldn't make head or tails of it."

"Well, he's surprisingly on point most of the time," Arcade told her. "Are you sure he didn't say anything you could understand? He might've said something that could prove to be useful to us in the future. It might help us to avoid trouble."

"Um..." Sandra muttered hesitantly. "He mentioned the burned man, too."

Vulpes stopped eating, eyeballing Sandra from under the rim of his hat.

Arcade squinted curiously at her from behind his glasses. "What did he say, exactly?"

"He said... _the burned man is itching to burn again,_ or something," Sandra tried to explain. "What do you think that means? Joshua wouldn't want to be lit on fire again. That's just stupid."

"Hmm..." Arcade pondered. "Could be a metaphor. You said he had trouble showing mercy to the White Legs when you saw him last, didn't you? Maybe he's still fighting his inner demons."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Sandra agreed. "He wouldn't have asked me for help unless he was in a really tight spot. It makes sense that he's stressed right now. I wouldn't wanna show any mercy either if I was in his shoes."

Vulpes let out a breath, still listening, saying nothing.

"So... when is our ride getting here?" Arcade asked. "You said your friend would be here before ten."

Sandra peered around, spotting two brahmin pulling a wagon up the opposite hill. There was a girl in the wagon, one Sandra recognized, wearing a lightly-colored hat, a skin-tight brown leather jacket, and a ginger ponytail laying on her back, her hair tied back and kept neatly away from her face.

"Cass!" Sandra hollered, waving at her.

Cass gave her a two-fingered salute, pulling the wagon to a stop and jumping out.

"Huh... you were right," Cass said, looking from Arcade to Vulpes. "One's a dork and the other's a total emo."

Sandra laughed. She didn't know Cass as well as her other friends, but she found her hilarious. Sandra met Cass after returning to the Mojave from Big Mountain a long time ago, though their meeting was brief. After resolving the conspiracy about Cass' destroyed caravans, Cass had left to restart her father's business, Cassidy Caravans, all on her own. And from the looks of the half-packed wagon and the well-fed brahmin, she was doing a fairly good job.

"Still haven't found a new crew, huh?" Sandra said.

"Nobody wants to join a caravan that lost all its previous members to a series of premeditated murders," Cass replied. "But I'm doing fine. The caps keep coming and the whiskey keeps flowing. That's all I care about."

"Isn't it dangerous to be in this business alone?" Arcade asked.

"That's what the shotgun's for," Cass answered. "Plus, I got myself a little friend." She pointed to the wagon. A rather large German Shepherd was sitting where Cass was moments ago, panting and perking its ears as it watched her from afar.

"Guard dogs are useful... and generally more loyal than human beings," Vulpes commented.

"Pretty much," Cass agreed. "So... you quoted me five-hundred caps in the letter, Sandra. You're gonna pay me up front, right?"

"Yup, and lunch is on me," Sandra told her. "We're gonna take some hot food with us for the road."

"Sandra... don't blow through your savings," Arcade advised. "I know the Lucky 38 has a nice influx of caps coming in, but we shouldn't spend money if we don't have to."

"You have no idea how long this trip is," Sandra informed. "Last time, it took us two weeks to get to Utah. So, before we end up stuck in a cave for two weeks straight, I wanna eat as much as I can. And we need to buy some prepackaged stuff, too. We're gonna need food for the trip."

Sandra purchased all the cram, sugar bombs, pork and beans, and purified water that theSlop N' Shop had in stock, and everyone loaded the food into the wagon. They all climbed aboard, and Scar hovered over Cass' dog, sniffing the back of its ears curiously. The caravan left the 188 Outpost, heading for the northern passage.

* * *

Sandra thought the trip would be a fun ride full of trading campfire stories just like it was the first time, but she was sorely disappointed.

Traveling with her companions was much less fun than her first trip to Utah. Arcade and Vulpes rarely ever spoke to each other on a regular basis, and the stress of being trapped in a never ending cave didn't make them any more talkative. Cass didn't know any of them well enough to start a discussion, and Sandra didn't want to force anyone to talk, worried that they might end up in a fight. As days passed by within the cave, Sandra found herself flipping through her old comic books over and over again, desperate to keep herself entertained until the trip was over. Arcade was doing the same with his medical magazines, and Vulpes spent most of his time asleep in the back of the wagon, curled up and facing the wall, laying awkwardly between two large crates of food.

Rationing their supply of crappy prewar foods and seeing no sunlight for days at a time took a toll on their mental well-beings. Cass' dog, Logan, was growing restless, constantly jumping out of the wagon and darting around the cavern. Scar did the same. As the dog and the deathclaw played frequent games of tag, Everyone else simply remained silent for the majority of the journey, silently longing for the trip to end.

On the last day of their journey, Cass was steering the wagon, growing extremely irritated by all the noise Logan and Scar were making, galloping around, thrashing against rocks, and yelping at each other.

Sandra was just as annoyed, though she didn't say anything. Vulpes was trying his best to sleep through it, and Arcade was using all his willpower to ignore the echoing barks, trying very hard to focus on his medical journal.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Cass exploded, throwing an empty can and pelting Logan in the head with it.

Logan whimpered, jumping into the wagon and sitting still beside Vulpes, his head hanging low.

"Alright... I think we've traveled far enough for today," Arcade figured. "Let's get a few hours of sleep. This'll probably be the last time we stop for a nap, anyway. We can't be far from the exit now."

Cass didn't reply, but she liked the idea of sleeping. The wagon stopped, the two brahmin taking a long deserved break. Sandra began passing cans of cram out to everyone. This had been their routine for the past two weeks; traveling in silence for hours, eating their rations, taking a nap, rinse, repeat.

Cass remained tucked away in the front of the wagon by herself, and Vulpes was doing the same in the back. Sandra and Arcade were sitting across from each other in the middle, surrounded by boxes and mangled tarps and clothes they'd been using as beds. The lanterns and Sandra's Pip-Boy were the only sources of light, which was another constant annoyance on this trip; it was difficult for Cass to guide her wagon in the dark, and Sandra and Arcade found it nearly impossible to read their books in the dim lighting.

"So," Arcade said, looking to Sandra, finally ending the seemingly infinite silence. "What do you expect to find when we get there?"

"I don't know," Sandra told him. "It's beautiful there. But... as far as the tribes go, I have no idea. From Joshua's letter, I'm imagining a lot has changed since the last time I came here."

"If the burned man is asking for help, I'd advise caution." Vulpes sat upright, turning and facing them, looking disgruntled. "The Malpais Legate wouldn't ask anyone for assistance. Ever. The only thing that would warrant such a desperate act would be a Legion invasion."

"The Legion couldn't have made it to Utah," Sandra said. "It's too far away."

"We began in Arizona and moved to Nevada. The Legion controls the White Legs. We've always had influence in Utah," Vulpes explained. "Pacification is how the Legion grows... absorbing and assimilating tribes into our own. It was only a matter of time before Utah fell to the Legion. It's a farm of would-be Legionnaires, waiting to be harvested."

"You keep saying 'we' and 'our' when you talk about the Legion," Arcade commented. "Why do you still talk like you're one of them?"

Vulpes glared at the doctor. "Old habits die hard."

"I think you ought to work on that," Arcade suggested. "Don't forget whose side you're on now."

"I'm on nobody's _side,_ doctor," Vulpes snarked. "The Legion betrayed me. I'm working for my own best interests in serving you two... like any ostracized profligate would. It's simple survival. Nothing more."

Arcade opened his mouth to retaliate, but Sandra waved him down.

"Hey Foxxy," Sandra said, snickering when Vulpes cringed. "It might help if you try to break yourself from that Legion mentality. It's hard to switch sides... but it's the right thing to do."

Vulpes scoffed, crossing his arms and looking away.

"Breaking him from the Legion mentality would take a master psychologist," Arcade said. "Legionaries are thoroughly brainwashed. Even when they're not with the Legion, the Legion's teachings still rule their lives."

"As if you'd understand," Vulpes grumbled. "You've never lived for anything. Never fought for anything. Never had a purpose."

 _"Excuse_ me?" Arcade retorted, cocking an eyebrow at the fox. "All I've ever done is work to help the people who're struggling in the wasteland. You know... all the same people you'd kill, or enslave, or rape, or burn alive."

"I've never raped anyone."

"Oh, and I guess that makes you an upstanding citizen, huh?"

"Shut your mouth, doctor. You're irritating me."

"Yeah? Get over it."

The air filled with tension. Arcade and Vulpes fell silent, avoiding each other's eyes.

Sandra bit her lip, wanting to say something to break the ice.

"Um... I know what might help," she said to Vulpes. "Say Joshua's name."

Vulpes shot her a piercing look.

"You're always afraid to say his real name," Sandra told him. "It might help you to get out of that Legion mindset if you start saying Joshua's real name instead of calling him the burned man. Caesar's not around to crucify you for it anymore."

Vulpes' eyes lingered on her for a moment, then he turned away.

"You know nothing of discipline," he uttered. "I cannot break my oaths. Whether Caesar lives or dies... I'm obliged to do as the Son of Mars commands."

"Unbelievable..." Arcade sighed. "Caesar's been dead for months, the Legion stabbed you in the back and tried to kill you, and you've been living freely away from the Legion for a good while now... yet, somehow, you _still_ can't think for yourself."

"Mind your tongue," Vulpes sneered. "Unless you'd like I remove it. Profligate."

Again, the two went quiet, the atmosphere even more uncomfortable than before.

"What're you afraid of?" Sandra asked Vulpes. "Who's gonna punish you for saying Joshua's name? Just say it."

"He is the burned man," Vulpes stated flatly. "A disgraced fairy tale to Legionaries, nothing more. He doesn't deserve a name."

"Just say it."

"No."

"Come on. Chicken."

"Stop it."

"Say it, you chicken. Say Joshua. Joshua. See how easy it is? Jo-shu-a."

"Hush."

"Give it up, Sandra," Arcade grumped. "He's still a slave. He's a slave to a dead man. Just leave it be."

Sandra frowned, glimpsing between Arcade and Vulpes, feeling defeated. All her efforts to make the two of them get along always turned out useless, and this was no exception.

She gave up on the conversation, wrapping herself in her makeshift bed and drifting off to sleep, thinking of the Forecaster, of his strange fortune. Before her eyes closed, she heard the child's voice play through her mind again, vivid as ever.

 _The burned man... itching to burn again._

* * *

When Sandra awoke, the wagon was already moving, thumping and jerking around as the wheels jumped over the rocks. Cass had woken up earlier than everyone else, and she didn't wait for the others to come to before resuming the journey. Cass wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

Soon, at long last, a light appeared at the end of the tunnel. Sandra felt her heart rise, a smile spreading across her face.

"Oh, finally..." Arcade said, sounding relieved.

Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes began collecting their belongings and strapping on their backpacks. Vulpes adjusted his custom power fist, Arcade holding his tesla rifle in his arms, both of them ready for whatever was waiting for them in Utah.

Cass released a wonderful breath as the wagon left the cave, the sunlight washing over them. Nobody knew what time of day it was, and none of them cared. It was great to be out in the open again, breathing fresh air and feeling sunlight on their skin.

Sandra, Arcade, Vulpes, and Scar left the wagon.

"I guess this is it, then," Cass said. "How are you guys gonna get back to the Mojave?"

Sandra shrugged. "I don't know. Joshua got me back home last time... maybe he'll do it again."

Vulpes grumbled something under his breath.

Sandra exchanged her goodbyes with Cass, and the wagon made a 180, returning to the cave and vanishing into the darkness.

Arcade took a moment to appreciate the beauty of Utah, but Vulpes looked like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world. Sandra darted up to them, pointing to the nearest bridge and leading them toward the path, which would take them to the Dead Horses' camp.

"Man, I forgot how pretty this place was," Sandra beamed. "It's so different from the desert..."

"Sandra," Arcade said in a hushed tone. He motioned over his shoulder where Vulpes was following them at a long distance, lagging far behind. "About Vulpes..."

"What about him?" Sandra asked.

"Do you really think it's a good idea for him to be here?" Arcade whispered. "Even if Joshua decides to be understanding... and that's a big 'if'... I don't think Vulpes is gonna do a very good job of acting like he's left the Legion. He still talks like he's one of them. Joshua won't take too kindly to that, will he?"

"Don't be paranoid," Sandra replied. "I'll explain everything to Joshua before Vulpes has a chance to open his mouth."

"I hope that'll be good enough for Joshua..."

"It will be. He's a friend of mine. Don't worry."

The group marched up the pathway, toward the rock where Sandra first met Follows-Chalk. She expected the walk to the camp to be a quiet, peaceful stroll, but she couldn't have been more wrong.

What happened next was the last thing anyone expected.

Swarms of tribals flooded from both sides of the canyon. Screams filled the area; Arcade lifted his rifle, Vulpes taking a fighting stance, but neither of them were fast enough. Something exploded, sending a rainfall of rocks down the mountainside. Someone threw a flashbang, blinding Sandra instantly. She felt a sudden pain erupt in her leg, and something hard collided with her skull. In no time at all, the bright, beautiful Zion had faded to darkness, as if Sandra had been thrown back into the endless pit of the northern passage. Her consciousness abandoned her, and as the ambush concluded, Sandra knew no more.

* * *

"Kid..."

Sandra blinked, wondering why everything was so dark. The sweet scent of rain drifted up her nose, reminding her of the Capitol Wasteland. When she opened her eyes, she found that she was in Point Lookout, standing over the swamp, rain soaking her to the bone.

"Kid...?"

Sandra looked up.

Charon stood over her, his hands on her arms, giving her a shake and looking somewhat concerned, his milky blue eyes fixated on hers.

"You hit your head," he said. "Well... somebody else hit your head. You need to wake up, kiddo. There's some shit hittin' the fan out there. Don't you hear it?"

Sandra watched him, listening intently. Indeed, she did hear ambient screams and cheers coming from somewhere far away, but the swamp appeared to be empty.

Her gaze bled into Charon's, and she almost wanted to stay in Point Lookout, to live in this delusion forever and never return to the real world... but she knew what needed to be done. This wasn't the first time one of her old friends appeared to her in a dream, and by now, she knew what it meant. Every time Charon would try to wake her up, it meant something dangerous was going on out in the real world. It made sense that Charon arrived in her dreams and tried to wake her up. In the old days, he'd always be the one pulling her out of her sleeping bag and alerting her to whatever raiders or monsters had snuck up on them during their slumber...

Sandra tried to force her eyes open for real, her skull throbbing, her body aching all over. The scent of fresh water remained prominent, but it wasn't from the rain in Point Lookout; it came from the musky, humid air within the Dead Horses' cave. The cavern looked blurred, her vision still askew. She tried to stand, but found that she was already positioned upright, though not on her feet. Her arms were tied above her head, ropes bound tightly around her wrists, and her ankles were tied together as well.

Someone was standing over her, someone pale and half-clothed, covered in tattoos and wearing a pointy headdress.

"Heh... didn't think I'd see you again, let me tell you," the tribal said, and Sandra blinked, recognizing the voice.

"Chalk..." she moaned painfully, meeting eyes with Follows-Chalk. "What happened...?"

"We haven't had visitors from the civilized lands since you left, Sandra," Follows-Chalk explained. "Things have been... tense. The White Legs aren't a threat anymore, but... nowadays, we're facing a new threat. Something worse. We were instructed to ambush anyone coming from the civilized lands. It's too dangerous to let people walk in and out of Zion freely anymore."

"My friends..." Sandra breathed. "Where are my friends...?"

"Um... well, your doctor friend is right next to you," Follows-Chalk replied, motioning to Sandra's left.

Sandra turned her head, which hurt a lot more than usual. Arcade was tied to a totem pole as well, but his head was hanging, his glasses sliding off his nose. He was unconscious, and his coat had been tattered and torn, his face bruised and spots of blood drying on his shirt.

Her vision returning to her, she scanned around, seeing that they were both being held in Joshua's personal room. To her right was Joshua's desk, covered with 45 pistols. Lanterns kept the cave illuminated, and Sandra couldn't see Vulpes anywhere.

"Where's my other friend?" she asked, her voice strengthening.

Follows-Chalk looked somewhat remorseful, not answering right away. Sandra heard the distant screams and cheers again. She guessed they were coming from outside.

"I... I'm not sure what's going on," Follows-Chalk said. "But... when the others brought you here... Joshua instructed us to tie you up."

"What? Why would he do that?"

"Because... he was worried you'd interfere."

"Interfere with what?"

Follows-Chalk gulped. "The... the pacification."

"The pacification of what?"

"Of the frumentarii rank. That's what Joshua says, anyway. I don't know what it means."

Sandra's stomach sank, her heart pounding. Joshua planned to kill Vulpes, and she never got a chance to explain anything to him.

"I haven't seen Joshua so angry in a long time... not since he faced Salt-Upon-Wounds," Follows-Chalk said. "He called all of the Sorrows and Dead Horses to play witness to the pacification."

"Chalk, let me go," Sandra requested. "Untie me. Now."

Follows-Chalk's eyes widened. "I... I can't."

"You have to. You don't understand what's going on... hell, Joshua doesn't even understand what's going on. I have to talk to him. He doesn't know what he's doing."

"What do you mean?"

"I _mean,_ Joshua thinks Vulpes is a Legionary sent here to kill him, but Vulpes hasn't been with the Legion in a long time! He's about to kill Vulpes for no reason! Let me go!"

"I can't..."

 _"Let me go goddammit!"_

Sandra fought and struggled against the ropes, to no avail. She felt the ropes digging into the scar on her wrist.

"Please stop," Follows-Chalk pleaded. "You're cut and bruised all over. You'll hurt yourself."

"Chalk, I swear to fucking God... if you were ever my friend, you better act like it now!" Sandra demanded. "Let me fucking go! He's about to kill one of my friends!"

Follows-Chalk looked incredibly conflicted, biting his lip and staring down at his feet.

"Please," Sandra begged. "Remember when we went all over the canyon together? Remember when that yao guai almost ate your leg off, and we had to camp out at that abandoned ranger station until morning?"

Follows-Chalk breathed out a laugh. "Yeah... we spent the whole night talking. You were telling me about the civilized lands, and the... the cazeenos?"

"Yeah, the casinos... and I was fixing up your leg while we talked. I wanted to distract you from the pain. I know it hurt like hell," Sandra told him. "It rained all night, but I found a hotplate and we managed to cook some of that yao guai for dinner."

Follows-Chalk was smiling now, though Sandra could still see a glint of conflict in his eyes.

"Chalk... please," Sandra said. "Let me go. I have to explain something to Joshua before he does something he'll regret. Please..."

Follows-Chalk remained quiet for several seconds. Finally, he reached around the pole and untied Sandra's bindings, first the top, then the bottom.

Sandra hit her feet and nearly fell, her head spinning. There was a sharp pain in the back of her leg, but she ignored it and rushed over to Arcade, grasping his face and trying to stir him.

"Arcade, come on!" she said. "Wake up! Hurry up!"

Arcade let out a groan, blinking himself awake and squinting at her. "What... happened...?"

"There was an ambush. Joshua's about to kill Vulpes. We've gotta go stop him, come on..." Sandra wrapped her arms around him, groping at the ropes.

"No, no... just..." Arcade moaned. "If he's in danger... don't waste time... just go. Don't... don't worry about me. Come back for me when it's over..."

Sandra hesitated, then gave him a nod and rushed for the exit. She didn't know where her belongings were, but she spotted an assortment of spears against the cave's wall. She grabbed one of them and sprinted out of the cave.

All the cave's inhabitants - and most of the inhabitants of the other villages - were standing in a massive crowd beside the river, surrounding a cross. Joshua Graham stood before the cross, his arms crossed, his pensive eyes locked on the crucified frumentarius. Vulpes was lashed to the cross, his shirt removed, gashes and blood covering every visible inch of his skin, though despite suffering an intense beating, he hadn't lost consciousness. He wasn't whimpering or crying. In fact, he didn't seem to be showing any signs of pain even though he looked like he was barely alive. He merely glared down at Joshua Graham, maintaining a heated staring contest with the Malpais Legate.

Sandra stifled a gasp, observing the scene for a moment before pushing her way through the crowd, fighting to reach Joshua.

"It matters to my people... to witness my teaching," Joshua said ominously, his voice darker than ever. "The Legion... those who threaten our home, those who sent the White Legs after us, those who've proceeded to invade our holy land and isolate us from the rest of the world. And the frumentarii." His tone took on a dangerous fluctuation, his eyes burning into Vulpes. "The spies and assassins... the best of whom report to this man. No, this... boy. This child. Caesar deemed this child the greatest of his frumentarii. Why? Because he's quicker to betray than most. Because he enjoys spilling the blood of the innocent. Because he's a cruel, untamed child. But we... we will show the Legion that even the greatest of their men will fall if they dare to daunt upon my doorstep."

One of the tribals handed a lit torch to Joshua.

Joshua gazed into its flames, seeming mesmerized. Then, he held the torch unsettlingly close to the base of the cross, inches away from Vulpes' feet.

"The burned man... will burn again."

Just as Sandra arrived to the center of the crowd, she felt a shudder slither down her spine at hearing Joshua's voice, at seeing the torch. He was going to burn Vulpes alive in front of everyone...

"Have you nothing to say?" Joshua said, cocking his head up at Vulpes. "Beaten, drugged, lashed to a cross... yet you still show no sign of fear, no sign of remorse. You say nothing, you do nothing. Have you no wish to defend yourself, boy? Have you no lengthy speeches about the broken morality of profligates? No lecture about our dissolution? How disappointing."

Vulpes leered at him, his breaths heavy and pained, but he remained as silent as death.

"Very well," Joshua concluded. "By God's hand... the frumentarii shall perish at your demise."

Sandra ran at a speed that should've been impossible in her current state, grabbing Joshua's arm and yanking him away from the cross. The torch slipped through his fingers, falling into the river and fizzling out.

Joshua blinked, giving her a speculative stare.

Sandra held the spear in one hand, raised just high enough to defend herself in case things went south.

There was a long, tense silence. The crowd noises faded to whispers and murmurs.

Sandra faced the crowd, taking in a deep breath. "Ash you obset da murder? Ash des foren gon fixtat youn problens?!"

Judging by the looks on their faces, Sandra guessed that she'd pronounced everything correctly. She turned to Joshua again and repeated it in English.

"Are you really okay with murder? Is this really gonna solve your problems?" she said. "I understand killing someone out of self-defense, but this is a Legion crucifixion. I thought you were past this."

"Sandra..." Joshua said, his voice low and dangerous. "You're not supposed to be out here."

"I had to come. You're about to kill my friend."

"Sandra... whatever he's told you, he's not your friend. Did you find him on the strip? Wearing that simple suit disguise? Did he assure you that his name was Steven, or John, or Mr. Fox? He lives under false names and fake professions when he's out in the 'profligate' world. You might think he's your friend, but he's not. His real name-"

"Vulpes Inculta," Sandra cut him off. "Caesar's right-hand man, best of the frumentarii, all that bullshit. Yeah, I know all that already. He didn't trick me or anything. I know who he is."

Joshua's eyes narrowed at her. "Then _why_ have you brought the Legion's most notorious assassin into my midst?"

"Because he's not Legion anymore," Sandra announced, loud enough for everyone to hear. "A lot has changed since Caesar died. Vulpes defected the Legion a long time ago."

Joshua went quiet for a few seconds, shifting his gaze up to Vulpes, then back.

"I wish I could believe such a thing," he said. "But that... that's incredibly hard to believe. Why would he defect the Legion?"

"The same reason you did," Sandra replied. "Because they tried to kill him. He would've died if I didn't take him in."

Joshua traded glares with Vulpes and Sandra again. He approached the cross, folding his arms and staring up at the fox.

"His mannerisms haven't changed," Joshua said. "Legionaries are meant to remain completely silent if they're ever captured... at least until they find an opening to escape or to kill themselves. Caesar was determined to make sure all of his secrets died with his Legionaries. Their lives were collateral damage. And not only that... but I distinctly remember you telling me about Caesar's profound paranoia regarding me, Sandra. He was paranoid that I eventually would come back to enact revenge on him. So... he not only banished me, he also banished my name. He demanded that no Legionary ever speak the name Joshua Graham. That _is_ what you told me, correct, Sandra?"

"Um... yes," Sandra answered. "But it doesn't matter. Caesar's dead. He's been dead for a long time."

"It does matter," Joshua growled, advancing on Vulpes. "Because if Caesar gave such an order, his Legionnaires would obey him even in death. So... Vulpes Inculta... if you want me to believe that you've defected against the Legion, then prove it to me. Say my name. Disobey Caesar's orders and speak the name Joshua Graham."

Vulpes didn't speak. He continued to glare hatefully into Joshua, stubbornly keeping his mouth shut.

"That's what I thought," Joshua said, pulling his 45 from his hip and taking aim. "Goodnight, fox."

Sandra lunged at him, jerking his arm around and making the pistol fly out of his reach. Joshua ripped the spear from her hand and tossed it aside, kicking her in the stomach and slamming her hard on the ground.

Vulpes seethed as he watched, his teeth grinding together.

When Joshua mounted her and raised his fist, Sandra began throwing wild punches, hardly knowing if she was making any contact. Joshua restrained one of her arms and landed a solid punch onto her cheek. Sandra thrust her head upward, bashing her skull into Joshua's jaw. Just then, Joshua's hand coiled around her throat, constricting her windpipe... her face fading scarlet...

She tried to lift her arm, to throw another punch, to resist him any way she could, but her body refused to cooperate. She couldn't breathe, and she didn't have the strength to break free of Joshua's grasp...

"JOSHUA!"

The scream pierced the air.

Instantly, Joshua released Sandra, staring up at the cross. Sandra, her body screaming in pain and her head incredibly light, rolled her head to the side, trying to focus her gaze on Vulpes and failing. Her vision distorted again and she felt like she might pass out.

Vulpes heaved a series of big, furious breaths, suddenly looking livened. He looked to be more aware of his injuries now, but any pain he might've been feeling was shrouded beneath his anger.

"Joshua Graham - what a big man you are, demonizing the Legion and enacting their practices on your homeland. What moral high ground do you believe you're standing on? Because all I see is a hypocrite!" Vulpes fumed. "An old, broken, burned-to-the-bone hypocrite. What do you hope to accomplish? Showing all your little followers how evil the Legion is? It might interest you all to know that crucifixion is a _Legion_ practice! And your precious leader is following in their footsteps, just as he always has!"

Joshua stood and approached the cross once more.

"Go on," Vulpes urged, smiling sickly down at the Malpais Legate. "Go on, I implore you. Do it. Show everyone how we dealt with every reprobate in the wasteland. Show everyone your deep-seeded Legion ways. Show them all what Caesar did to you... and show them you're absolutely no better than he was. _Joshua."_

Vulpes and Joshua shared the same fiery blue glares. Another terrible silence fell.

Sandra sat upright, now extremely dizzy, watching Joshua anxiously.

"So now you speak," Joshua said. "After beatings... after abduction... and even after I gave you a chance to speak up, you still said nothing. But now, you speak." He glimpsed at Sandra. "How interesting."

"I don't fear you," Vulpes sneered. "Nor do I fear the name. But I'd sooner die than give you the satisfaction of speaking at your mercy. You don't own me. But if you wish me dead... then kill me. I want all of your people to see you become the man you despise. I want them to see you become Caesar."

Joshua examined him, seeming to be deep in thought.

Sandra slowly reached her feet, her leg wanting to give out and her dizziness making her stumble. She made her way to Joshua's side, giving him a pleading look.

Joshua returned the stare, his expression softening.

They looked to be having a whole conversation with their eyes. Sandra silently begged him to show mercy, but she couldn't know what Joshua was going to do now.

The silence seemed to last an eternity.

"The Lord is watching," Joshua muttered. "Just as he was the last time... with Salt-Upon-Wounds."

He turned to the tribals closest to him, gesturing for them to approach the cross.

"Do it," Joshua ordered.


	4. Civilized Brutality

Sandra's heart skipped.

At first, she thought the tribals were going to finish him off, but instead, they climbed on each other's shoulders and reached up to the arms of the cross, beginning to untie Vulpes's wrists.

Moments later, the ropes loosened, and Vulpes fell from the cross. Sandra grabbed him, standing him upright and quickly withdrawing one of her hands, her fingers splotched with blood. Vulpes had a deep gash on his chest, covering his torso in crimson.

"Shit... are you okay?" Sandra gasped. "Can you walk okay?"

Vulpes clenched his teeth, forcing himself to stand upright and not answering her, instead glaring daggers at Joshua.

"You don't deserve redemption any more than I do," Joshua told him. "But... second chances can work miracles. It has in the Bible. It has for me. And apparently... it has for the two of you."

Vulpes chose not to reply, swallowing every pained grunt and sharp exhalation. The wound on his chest hurt more than anything else.

"There will be no execution here today," Joshua announced to the crowd of tribals. "But there has been a pacification, just as there was for me. The Legion in me is gone... is pacified. As remains true with Vulpes Inculta. You two," he turned to Sandra and Vulpes. "Come."

Joshua began toward the cavern. The crowd began to disperse.

Vulpes met Sandra's eyes, still looking furious, but he let out a gruff breath of relief.

"As many times as I've faced death since I met you," he said hoarsely. "You'd think it would finally claim me."

"Nah, you're not that easy to kill," Sandra replied. "Come on. We need to fix you up."

"Yes, well..." Vulpes marched with a limp, paying no mind to the swelling in his ankle. "Next time I tell you not to throw a frumentarius in Joshua's face, listen to me. I told you this wasn't a good idea."

"Aw... I'm proud of you," Sandra said with a smirk. "You're finally saying his name."

"Shut up..."

Vulpes clamped a hand on her shoulder for support. The two of them followed far behind Joshua back into the cavern, making their way to the room farthest back, Joshua's personal room. Joshua sat calmly behind his desk, Sandra and Vulpes standing opposite him. Arcade, who was still tied to a totem pole, glimpsed between them.

"Oh... what a sweet, loving moment," Arcade said. "Looks like everyone made up. Everybody's on the same page now. What a special moment... so... yeah, if somebody could get around to getting these ropes off me, that would be _great._ Really..."

Sandra untied the ropes around Arcade's wrists and ankles. Arcade winced when he landed on his feet.

"Sorry about the injuries," Joshua murmured, keeping his hands busy by tinkering with his 45′s. "We can't risk anyone sneaking up on us. Caravans haven't been coming. Not since the Happy Trails Caravan was eradicated."

Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes stood side by side in front of the desk. They traded glances, wondering where to start.

"How did you send me the letter, then?" Sandra asked. "If you haven't been letting anyone in or out... how did you manage to contact me?"

"Another courier," Joshua replied. "The other Courier Six. I believe you're familiar with him."

Arcade looked lost, but Vulpes now wore a face of intrigue.

"Ulysses," Vulpes said. "I didn't know he was still alive."

"Alive and free of the Legion, just like you and I," Joshua stated. "Thus far, three of the Legion's finest have gotten out of their confines alive. That combined with the death of Caesar... you would think their morale would start to dwindle by now."

"The Monster of the East would have no such Legion," Vulpes replied. "He'd not stand for it. Any weakness would be weeded out."

"And the strongest remain as the invasion force," Joshua knew. "Yes. And they're picking easier targets in an attempt to assimilate more tribes before they reach their final destination."

"New Vegas..." Arcade mumbled.

Joshua nodded. "Utah is a harvesting spot for recruits, at least in the Legion's eyes. They're waiting for us at every corner of Zion. We're isolated... and trapped."

"That's why you wrote me?" Sandra wondered.

Joshua placed a 45 down, intertwining his fingers, resting his chin on his hands and gazing up at her thoughtfully.

"We need to leave," he said. "I've fought to my limit trying to remain in Zion... but dealing with the White Legs was child's play compared to the Legion. The Sorrows and Dead Horses wouldn't stand a chance."

"You need us to orchestrate an evacuation?" Arcade said.

"Not only that," Joshua added. "But... I haven't been to the Mojave in a long time. I know the areas to some extent, but I don't know the status of all the societies, all the factions. Sandra would know where the best places are. Empty places. Places we could reclaim as our own."

"Wait a second," Sandra said. "Can you give us our stuff back? I need to use Arcade's medkit." She gestured to Vulpes. "Let me fix that gaping hole in his chest... then, I'll tell you everything I know."

"Very well."

Joshua pulled their belongings out of a nearby locker and handed them over. Sandra went to work wiping blood off of Vulpes and disinfecting the wound before bandaging it up.

"There's this place called Bonnie Springs," she said as she wrapped the gauze tape around Vulpes' torso. "People used to live there, but now it's a ghost town. You might have to fight off a few cazadors, but the place is up for grabs. It's right across from Red Rock Canyon, so you might be able to make friends with the Great Khans. They're a tribe just like you guys are."

Sandra wrapped numerous layers of gauze tape around Vulpes, making him roll his eyes. Arcade snickered.

"The Great Khans are a tribe," Joshua said. "If they are, then the Legion will have tried to assimilate them already. Their connections in the Mojave are scarce compared to everywhere else, but they would've found a way by means of their frumentarii."

"Yes," Vulpes said, patting the tape down and shooing Sandra away. "We did reach out to the Khans a while back. We struck up an alliance with them, hoping to gain their support in the war. They agreed."

"Shit..." Sandra sighed. "If the Khans are working with the Legion, there's no way you could live next door to them."

"Not necessarily," Arcade spoke up.

Everyone looked to him.

"I have an idea," Arcade said. "It... it's a really terrible idea. I'll hate myself for this, but it's our biggest shot at winning over the Khans."

"Yeah?" Sandra urged. "Tell us."

"Well... we left Niner in charge of everything when we left, which might not've been our best move, but I digress. The Great Khans are chem dealers. Niner's actually on a first-name-basis with some of them. If we struck up a chem deal with the Khans and had them deliver chems to the casinos, we'd make the businesses thrive even more, and the Khans would be making thousands of caps. They might value a business promotion more than they value assimilating to the Legion." He turned to Vulpes. "Especially if we have an ex-Legionary with us to explain what would _really_ happen to them if they merged with the Legion."

"So... we propose a business deal and we have Vulpes tell them the truth about the Legion? That might work," Sandra agreed. "If that doesn't convince them, nothing will."

"You have two ex-Legionaries at your disposal," Joshua interjected. "I can tell them everything they need to know about the Legion. They'd be fools to merge with the Legion afterward."

"Are you sure you wanna come back to the Mojave?" Sandra asked him. "Isn't it dangerous for you?"

"Not really..." Joshua replied. "Caesar wanted me dead more than Lanius, and in any case, Lanius is still east of the river. The Mojave has become the safest place for me... for all of us."

"Indeed," Vulpes said. "With the Republic and the stronghold of Independent Vegas, the Mojave is relatively untouchable compared to the surrounding wastelands."

"Daniel and Follows-Chalk have provided me with a salvaged compass and a map," Joshua informed. "I've mapped out the quickest and safest route out of Zion. It's the only route that the Legion probably doesn't know about."

"What about the northern passage?" Sandra asked.

"Not safe," Joshua answered. "You're lucky to have journeyed through it without a scout of Legionaries on your tail. No... we'll be taking the railroad. It will take us directly to the southern border of Nevada."

"Next to Nipton..." Vulpes uttered.

"Hang on," Sandra said. "How many people are coming with you? How many Sorrows and Dead Horses are there in total?"

"Roughly... two-thousand," Joshua informed.

Sandra blinked. Bonnie Springs was an empty town up for grabs, but it wasn't nearly big enough to house two-thousand people.

"Nipton," Sandra whispered. "Nipton is empty. That's it! Everyone in Nipton got wiped out, but the town is still there! You guys could take Nipton! It's way bigger than Bonnie Springs!"

"Nipton was wiped out?" Joshua repeated. "How?"

Arcade shot Vulpes a condescending look. Vulpes scoffed and turned away.

"Um... the Legion did it," Sandra said vaguely. "But that was a long time ago. The Legion hasn't made a move within the border ever since Nipton got wiped out. Besides, with you and all the Sorrows and Dead Horses, you could defend it better than the people before."

"We still need to make a negotiation with the Great Khans, even if Joshua doesn't end up being their next-door neighbor," Arcade said. "We need to steer them away from the Legion if they're going to be our allies in this war. Otherwise, they'll become our enemies. We'll have enemies living on our land, and when the war begins, they'll be attacking from our homeland. We'd be getting attacked from the front _and_ the back. We don't want that."

"Right, so... we evacuate, we escort the tribes to Nipton, we stop by Vegas and grab Niner, and we head to Red Rock Canyon to make the negotiation," Sandra synopsized. "Sound like a plan?"

"No," Vulpes said sharply. "Not yet."

Vulpes stepped forward, locking eyes with Joshua.

"We're providing quarter for you and your people... just after you tried to execute me. Just after you beat up on Sandra. Tell me, does that sound fair?" Vulpes snarled. "No. That's not good enough. You have to do something for us, Joshua."

Arcade and Sandra gave him baffled looks, but Joshua didn't seem surprised by the statement.

"Very well," Joshua said calmly. "What do you need of me?"

"A return of favor," Vulpes stated. "When the war comes, you and your tribes will be fighting on our side. We will all exterminate Lanius's Legion from the face of the planet together."

"Well, I thought that was a given," Joshua replied. "Of course. On the dawn of war, you will have our support."

"I'm not finished," Vulpes continued. "As far as we - the courier, the doctor, and I - are concerned, you'll not lay a hand on us. If we ever have to fight for our lives against you again, you will be considered enemies of New Vegas."

"Fair," Joshua agreed. "I never thought I'd see the day... Vulpes Inculta negotiating in favor of Independent Vegas. The Lord works in mysterious ways."

"Hmph." Vulpes crossed his arms and stepped away.

"Aww, look at you, Foxxy," Sandra grinned, petting Vulpes on the head like a dog. "Good Foxxy, defending New Vegas from the Legion. Who's a good Foxxy? Who's a good-"

Vulpes smacked her hand away irritably. Sandra laughed.

* * *

As Joshua, Follows-Chalk, Daniel, and the rest of the tribals' leaders began to evacuation, Sandra and her friends followed them closely behind. Thankfully, the trip back to the Mojave wasn't nearly as tedious and annoying as the ride there. Sandra sat in a crooked square in one of the many wagons, joined by Follows-Chalk, Arcade, and Vulpes, and the four of them (three, really, as Vulpes remained silent most of the time) exchanged conversation.

Arcade expressed concerns when the mass evacuation started, noting that traveling with Joshua Graham was extremely dangerous - especially so soon after Joshua had tried to kill Vulpes - but Sandra pointed out that it wasn't any more dangerous than any of their previous missions, which Arcade couldn't argue with.

Vulpes wasn't psyched about traveling in Joshua's party, but he didn't care enough to say anything about it. After all, he and the others got away alive, and now, they had another army backing them in preparation for the war. He couldn't complain. Logically and tactically, everything was working in their favor.

The wagons carried tens and twenties of tribals, and there were at least thirty wagons altogether, rolling one after the other through the subways. Surprisingly, this journey was faster than the caravan ride through the northern passage. After nights of Sandra and Follows-Chalk entertaining everyone with their stories of traveling through Utah, they finally arrived at the exit, a railroad extending into the Mojave desert, and far off in the distance, Sandra was just able to see Nipton on the horizon.

Nipton; that was the first time Sandra met Vulpes, excluding her encounter with him in Denver four years prior. It was mind-boggling to think of how much things had changed since then. Sandra and Niner, two lone couriers with no real destination and barely any caps to their names, had strolled into Nipton only to find it freshly burned and conquered, fires still smoldering, Legion flags flying high. Vulpes Inculta was still the dog-headed frumentarius back then. Now, he was a suited bodyguard with a stylish prewar hat and a custom-made power fist, someone Sandra thought of as a friend. Maybe Joshua was right. Maybe the Lord _did_ work in mysterious ways...

And to have Arcade and Vulpes working on the same team? It was nothing short of a miracle. Perhaps Joshua's crazy religious ideals weren't all that far-fetched. If Arcade and Vulpes could work together, there _had_ to be a God in Heaven, because there was simply no logical explanation to explain such an amazing thing happening without some magical cosmic interference.

Sandra felt a wave of de-ja-vu overcome her when the expedition rolled into Nipton. She hopped out of the wagon and marched across the road, entering the town the same way she and Niner had a long time ago. There were no fires or Legion flags now, but the town was still in ruin, totally unkempt and abandoned.

Arcade gulped, his eyes resting on the crosses in front of the town hall, a knot forming in his stomach. The gangsters that had been lashed to the crosses were long dead, leaving only limp skeletons dangling from every crucifix, with dry, empty skin and filthy old clothes tenting off each one. It was grisly to say the least, though Joshua didn't seem bothered by it.

Vulpes absorbed the scene, a vivid series of flashbacks playing through his mind like a movie. He remembered each victim clearly, every screaming profligate that he and his Legionaries had dragged away to be crucified. He didn't regret their deaths; he meant what he said back then, that the town was full of morally ill reprobates, that the people deserved what they got. Still, laying eyes on the scene now burdened him with a strange discomfort, and he couldn't place why.

"God... I've heard about it, but... I've never actually _seen_ it before now," Arcade said grimly. "This is horrible..."

"This is tame," Joshua said calmly. "For the Legion... it's tame."

"How could you call this tame?" Arcade asked, waving an arm at the decomposing gangsters. "This is sick and twisted by anyone's standards."

"Anyone's but mine," Vulpes murmured darkly. "It was a small, quiet attack. A loud ambush would've brought the Republic flooding in from the Mojave Outpost to investigate and retaliate. As Joshua said, doctor... it is tame."

Arcade scowled at Vulpes from behind. Sandra couldn't argue either side; she wouldn't have called Nipton's destruction tame, but her infamous Denver genocide was a much louder, more brutal attack. Perhaps the destruction of Nipton was tame by comparison, if nothing else.

"This is... the civilized land?" Follows-Chalk said, looking confused, examining the environment. "It looks empty... just like back home."

"No, this isn't what the entire Mojave looks like," Sandra told him. "Most of the Mojave is thriving with life. Just wait. You'll get to see it all."

Follows-Chalk replied with a smile.

The Sorrows and Dead Horses spread throughout the town and began exploring the houses and trailers.

Joshua turned to Sandra.

"It's been a long road," he said. "For us, and you."

"It's far from over," Sandra replied. "But at least you guys have plenty of time to make a home here. You won't have to worry about fighting in the war for a while."

Joshua placed a hand on her shoulder. "I apologize... for losing myself again. It might've cost you your life. Or your friend's."

"Shit happens," Sandra shrugged. "No big deal."

Joshua's oceanic stare shone with a spark of understanding, making him look more sincere than Sandra ever remembered.

"Then I bid you vale," he said, shifting his gaze to Arcade, to Vulpes, then back to Sandra. "Until we meet again. God be with you."

Sandra said her goodbyes, promising Follows-Chalk that they'd come back to visit as soon as they could. When they began the walk to Vegas, noon struck, and Sandra beamed, thinking of Niner and looking forward to seeing her old junkie friend again.

"What're you so happy about, smiley?" Arcade asked her.

"Nothing," Sandra grinned. "I'm just happy. Everything worked out. Joshua and the tribes have a home. We're gonna see Niner again. Everything's looking up."

"Not everything," Vulpes said. "You've yet to win over the Great Khans, who're still tied to the Legion. You've yet to find the Brotherhood of Steel, who're rumored to be hostile toward all outsiders. We may still have enemies behind the front lines. You might want to do something about that."

"We have plenty of time to deal with that," Arcade told him. "Let's focus on the victory we just accomplished. We got the whole of Joshua Graham's army on our side. That's good enough for now."

"If you say so... but I wouldn't let my guard down so easily," Vulpes warned. "The Legion is far more dangerous when they're quiet. You said it yourself, woman. The Legion hasn't struck within the border since Nipton. Do you know what that means?"

Sandra gave him a questioning look.

"It means... they're working in the shadows," Vulpes informed. "They're preparing to strike the Mojave's weak points before the final blow... and in this case, you and your allies are the weak points. You are the pressure points that need to be neutralized before the final attack. In combat, a Legionnaire will strike an opponent's weak points before delivering the killing blow. This is no different. If you and your allies are stopped in their tracks, that weakens the rest of the Mojave, setting up New Vegas to be knocked down by the Legion. So... perhaps you shouldn't start celebrating so early. We'll have enough of a battle on our hands long before the war even starts."


	5. Integrations

"You've done well."

Sarah, Veronica, Mr. Burke, Bryan, and Gob stood before the Elder's desk. The five of them had just completed the third mission given to them by Elder McNamara, and now, the Elder seemed to be warming up to them.

For Sarah and Bryan, working with the Brotherhood was like an instinctual behavior, but Gob and Mr. Burke were completely lost. The first time Veronica brought them to Hidden Valley, neither of them knew what to do or how to approach the Brotherhood, but Veronica's carefree disposition toward the Brotherhood - her family - served to ease their minds a bit. For weeks, Elder McNamara had been giving them simple scouting missions, paying them for their efforts and Thanking them graciously each time. Still, this didn't mean that any of them were in the Brotherhood; McNamara was incredibly wary of allowing the outsiders into the bunker, and the only reason they were able to work for the Elder was because Veronica had spoken so highly of them upon their introduction.

"Thank you for bringing me their tags," Elder McNamara said, taking a handful of dog tags from Mr. Burke. "I wish they could've come home safely, but... at least we know what happened to them."

"Thank you for your time, my good man," Mr. Burke replied.

Elder McNamara gave them each a small sack of caps and sent them on their way. He seemed to be trusting Sarah's group more, but he still didn't let them spend much time in the bunker.

Once they were outside, Veronica and Sarah swapped devilish grins.

Mr. Burke gave them a half-smile.

"I think it's working," Veronica remarked mischievously. "The more he trusts you, the more integrated you'll become. I've been telling that stubborn old fart we need new recruits, but he just won't listen. Maybe if we sneak some new recruits in under his nose, he'll be more okay with it."

"Like boiling a frog in a pot," Mr. Burke said. "Throw a frog in boiling water, it jumps out. Throw a frog in cold water and slowly bring it to a boil, it gets boiled."

"Exactly," Sarah agreed. "I feel bad about being so manipulative about it, but... the Brotherhood is all I know. I can never go back to Elder Maxson, so... this is the only chance we've got."

"Yeah... I'm not against doing bar work, to be honest," Gob yawned. "But... if you guys have your hearts set on this Brotherhood thing... whatever..."

"I hope this works out," Bryan said. "I miss being with the Brotherhood."

"You've been doing great so far, little man," Veronica beamed at him. "Honestly, I think you could take Elder McNamara in a fist fight, but that might just be because he's old..."

"So... Elder McNamara doesn't have any more jobs for us right now, right?" Bryan asked. "What're we supposed to do now?"

Veronica pondered on this. "Hm... maybe we could travel? I've always wanted to branch out a little farther than the 188 Outpost. I've got a few caps saved up. Maybe we could hit Vegas? Have a little fun?"

"Hell yeah," Sarah said. "I second that. Besides... if this Brotherhood thing doesn't work out, I'd like to know what my other options are. We've gotta learn more about this place. Find our place here, y'know?"

"Yeah," Veronica murmured. "Me too..."

"What do you mean?" Bryan peered up at Veronica. "You already have a place here. You're Brotherhood."

Veronica stared down at her boots for a moment, then shook her head and marched off, waving for them to follow. "Come on, losers! New Vegas awaits!"

"Yes... New Vegas," Mr. Burke said wonderingly. "I'm looking forward to visiting that city. If I have a chance of making it in this region... it's in the city."

"I thought you wanted to help the Brotherhood," Veronica said. "The way things are going in the Mojave... the NCR and the Legion are gonna be fighting for the dam any day now. The Brotherhood isn't strong enough to survive a war no matter who's side we're on. We need the help."

"Well... if your Elder values us enough in the future, then he'd most assuredly value someone with influence in the big city, yes?" Mr. Burke replied. "Running errands for the Elder might pay the bills, but it isn't my forte. I'd work much better in a big city environment."

"I believe that," Sarah sighed. "And it's a good idea, so long as you don't get involved with shady crime lords and start trying to blow up towns again."

"Working in gray areas is what I do," Mr. Burke said proudly. "I'm comfortable with morally gray."

"You _do_ sound like you belong in Vegas," Veronica commented.

"If we could integrate with both the Brotherhood and New Vegas, we'd have plenty of allies to help us survive this upcoming war," Mr. Burke figured. "Think about it logically. We need allies. Your Brotherhood needs allies. You said it yourself."

"Yeah..." Veronica sighed. "But McNamara is hell-bent on keeping outsiders out. He won't take new recruits. That's why I'm trying to convince him that outsiders can be useful. You guys running errands for him proves that."

"Yes... but asking him to enlist us might be a bit much," Mr. Burke told her. "Sarah and Bryan want to be part of the Brotherhood, but Gob and I don't really. So... maybe your Elder would be more likely to agree to enlisting newcomers if the number of new recruits is smaller, and consists of two former Brotherhood members. Your Elder might value us more if we gain some influence in New Vegas. We would be his link to the outside. We could ensure that he doesn't get attacked by whoever's running the city."

"It... does sound practical," Sarah agreed. "Bryan and I could keep trying to integrate here while you and Gob make some connections in Vegas. We really could give the Brotherhood a link to the outside world that way. It would be beneficial to us and McNamara both."

"I don't know what I'd end up doing... probably just bar work, as usual," Gob told them. "Or maybe being Mr. Burke's bodyguard..."

"That's a good plan," Mr. Burke said. "All you need is a suit, a pair of sunglasses, and a nice firearm... then, you'd make a great bodyguard. Might be easier for me to make a strong first impression with you by my side, Gob. You'd make me look like someone important."

"So... we've got this figured out, then?" Sarah figured. "We're splitting the group in two? How are we gonna communicate?"

"Oh... you can send mail with caravans from Vegas and Freeside," Veronica informed. "Mail doesn't come to Hidden Valley, of course... but if you send it to the Mojave Outpost, I'll be sure to get it."

"Great." Sarah looked to Mr. Burke and Gob. "I... I'm gonna miss you guys. Do you need anything for the road? A few extra caps?"

"No, thank you... McNamara paid us well enough to get us to New Vegas," Mr. Burke replied. "Thank you for everything, Sarah. We'll see you on the flip side."

Bryan gave Mr. Burke and Gob a hug, and with a few waves and salutes, the Capital's remnants disbanded. Veronica led Sarah and Bryan back into the bunker, Mr. Burke and Gob vanishing into the hellish sandy storm.

* * *

"What?!"

Sandra stood before Raul and Niner in the Lucky 38's lobby, Arcade and Vulpes lingering near the exit.

Raul and Niner exchanged troubled faces.

"How can we not have any caps left?" Sandra exclaimed. "We've got caps pouring in from every casino on the strip! And we had all those caps saved up from Bradley's inheritance too! What happened to all the money?!"

"Uh... not to poke an angry yao guai with a stick, but... you spent it, Boss," Raul told her. "We still have enough money coming in to keep the business flowing, but we don't really have any wiggle room to salvage any leftover caps for ourselves. You kept dipping into the savings every time you stopped by... so... the well is coming up dry now."

"Really," Sandra said pensively, narrowing her eyes at Niner. "I'm sure none of that money went to drugs, huh?"

Niner purposefully averted his gaze.

"I told you we shouldn't have been spending that money so carelessly," Arcade sighed. "Just because the Lucky 38 is ours now doesn't mean we're filthy rich. We're the centerpiece of the economy now. The money doesn't stop when it reaches us. It always gets redistributed into the community somehow... especially with all we've been doing for Freeside..."

"And that's not our only problem," Vulpes spoke up. "There are a lot of forces working against us in the shadows, and not just the Legion. We've yet to clean up the Mojave. The Mojave needs to be purged of anyone who could possibly oppose us in the war... any faction that might prove a threat to us. Starting with the Great Khans."

"Great Khans?" Niner said. "Ey, I can chat them up. I know a guy from the Khans, guy named Jessup. Dude used to hook me up whenever I'd be riding through Nevada."

"We'll make time to stop by there," Sandra announced. "But I'm not sure how we're gonna travel now. We can't afford to buy food and water anymore, much less ammo, or tools, or anything else. We need money if we're gonna be on the road."

"Well, Boss... in the olden days, we'd get these things called jobs," Raul quipped. "Jobs usually get you money."

"I can't have a job," Sandra complained. "We're on the move all the time. There's no way in hell I could maintain a job. Not with all the other crap we have to do on a regular basis."

"Well... I heard about something you might like to do, Boss," Raul said. "I heard it from a drifter about a week ago. Sounded like the kind of job I'd do if I wasn't stuck here... and maybe if I was a century or so younger..."

"What job?"

"It's, uh... bounty hunting," Raul informed. "Apparently some small firm outside of Primm is looking for freelance bounty hunters. It's not a shady business or anything. They don't kill people who don't have it coming. It's a clean business... uh... well, as clean as killing people for money can be, anyway..."

"Bounty hunting... now that's interesting," Arcade commented. "We'd be cleaning up the Mojave _and_ making the money we need to travel. Two birds with one stone."

"That depends on who the targets are," Sandra said. "But... it does sound like a good idea. We could make a real name for ourselves out there. That would be good for us if we end up winning the war for Vegas."

"Hey, y'know what else would help with saving money on the road?" Niner asked. "If you fixed up a fusion-powered vehicle. Something like my bike, but bigger. Ya' never see anyone driving around in cars these days. I bet if you had a vehicle, people would take ya' even more seriously."

"I wouldn't have the slightest clue..." Sandra murmured doubtfully. "I don't know anything about cars..."

"Well, y'got me, and I'm good with engineering and shit," Niner offered. "And you got the doctor man over there. He's good with sciencey shit. Between the two of us, we could probably fix somethin' up."

Sandra wasn't sure if she was confident in this idea. It was true that Niner once had a motorcycle, but the bike eventually broke down on the road to Primm, and Niner was convinced that it needed ordinary gasoline even though gasoline hadn't been around in over two-hundred years. She wasn't sure if she trusted his 'engineering and shit' skills.

"That's not the worst idea," Arcade said. "The NCR and the Enclave use vertibirds, and I've heard the Brotherhood does as well. The only reason regular people don't use vehicles nowadays is because they lack the know-how. But... I think we could fix something up. I know a thing or two."

"Really?" Sandra turned to Arcade. "You know how to fix up old vehicles? Like... you know all the science behind it, or whatever? Where'd you learn that?"

"Oh, um... just... reading," Arcade answered vaguely. "I never went to medical school either, but books have a way of turning people into professionals."

"I bet you're a professional gay porn expert," Niner remarked.

"I do _not_ look at porn."

"I didn't hear you deny the 'gay' part."

"Shut up, Niner."

Sandra giggled. She missed hearing Niner and Arcade bicker at each other. With their funny little arguments, she didn't feel on edge like she did listening to Arcade and Vulpes argue. With Arcade and Vulpes, the arguments always seemed like they might lead to bloodshed.

"You're coming with us, right?" Sandra asked Niner.

"Ah hell yeah. I've been waiting for you to come back for weeks," Niner replied. "I can't stay cooped up in here anymore. 'Specially with Raul acting like he's my dad. He never lets me do anything."

"Blowing money on drugs and beating up tourists ain't gonna help us bring in more business," Raul said, lighting a cigarette and huffing a cloud of smoke. "Go ahead and hit the road. You'll cause me a lot less problems out there."

"What's the firm called, Raul?" Sandra asked. "The bounty hunting firm, I mean. What's it called? And where is it?"

"It's called Randall & Associates," Raul told her. "It's right outside of Primm, a little ways west. Might take you a while to get there, but you really need the work if you want traveling money. Like I said... our savings are gone."

"I'm getting really tired of walking all over the place," Sandra sighed. "Maybe we should try to fix up a vehicle before we leave. How long would that take?" She turned to Niner and Arcade, hoping for an answer, but it was Raul who replied.

"There's a broken-down bus right on the edge of Freeside," the ghoul said. "It's the only one that still has a roof and tires."

"Do you guys think you could fix it up?" Sandra asked Arcade and Niner, but again, Raul responded.

"Why're you asking them? I'm the only one in this room that was actually around before the war, Boss. I'm the one who actually knows how cars work. Not to mention, I've made a living repairing things for decades."

"Oh... well, can you do it?" Sandra wondered. "How long would it take?"

"Eh... that depends on everything that's wrong with it," Raul told her thoughtfully. "The main problem would be the nuclear reactor they started using as fuel around the 2050's. It's nice to have an alternative to gasoline, but that shit is dangerous, and it's hard to get a nuclear reactor back in working shape. Not to mention, we'd need something crazy to make it work."

"Plutonium," Arcade informed.

Everyone stared at him.

"What?" Arcade said. "I've read about old cars. They have an attachment under the hood called Mr. Fusion, and you insert a canister of plutonium into it to keep the car fueled. One canister would keep it running for five to ten years, but they're extremely expensive and damn near impossible to find nowadays."

"Well, that sucks..." Sandra mumbled. "I really wanted a vehicle to use. It's hard to walk everywhere all the time, especially considering all we have to do."

"Well... I didn't say they were _impossible_ to find," Arcade added. "I know a few people who're savvy with old-school technology, and they use nuclear power for a lot of things. I could talk to them. They work with uranium regularly, so it's possible they might have plutonium too."

"Really?" Sandra said, sounding astonished. "Who do you know that uses nuclear power on a regular basis?"

"Um... people," Arcade replied, hitting a high note. "Friends. Old lovers. Just... people."

"You could talk to them? Where are they?"

"Well, one of them lives right outside of Freeside. I could pop over there and be back by this afternoon."

"Sweet! Raul, can you start working on the bus?"

"Sure thing, Boss. But I expect a little allowance whenever you claim your first bounty."

"You got it."

So, the team left the 38 and got to work. They marched into Freeside, and while Raul started working on the old bus, Arcade made his way to the south gate and left. Sandra and Niner followed all of Raul's instructions, helping him to work on the bus and checking to make sure the tires wouldn't explode as soon as the bus moved. Around sunset, Arcade returned, though Sandra didn't recognize him when he first approached; he was wearing a full-body hazmat suit, carrying a small canister in his hands.

"Stand back," Arcade warned all of them, carefully escorting the canister to the front of the bus. "You do _not_ wanna be exposed to this stuff."

Raul opened the hood, and Mr. Fusion rose from somewhere beside the engine. Arcade cautiously slid the canister into the cylindrical opening, and Raul closed the lid, carefully pushing Mr. Fusion back into its original spot.

"Ah... there we go. Can't hardly breathe in this thing," Arcade huffed, removing the yellow headwear. "My old friend was holding onto a little nuclear material of his own down in the basement. Sorry it took so long, guys. I had to convince him that he would never need to make his own atomic bombs to fight the NCR. He really, _really_ hates the NCR..."

"Your friend just has nuclear material sitting around in his basement?" Sandra asked. "Does he really think he'll have to fight the NCR by himself? Why's he so paranoid about them?"

"He's... a bit of a doomsday prepper," Arcade answered. "He thinks of the NCR as a completely oppressive regime. He's prepping for the day when _the NCR tries to take his guns away_ or _the NCR tries to force him into a labor camp._ I understand his doubts, but he's... a bit delusional. He prefers the Enclave over the NCR."

"Really?" Sandra said with a sense of interest in her voice, which made Arcade uneasy. "Why would he like the Enclave better than the NCR? I mean, I don't like the NCR either, but the Enclave is a lot worse." She held up her hand, showing the laser burn on her wrist. "I've got the scars to prove it."

"Oh, well... I don't know, he's just, uh... he's just a bit old-school," Arcade answered half-assedly.

"The Enclave hasn't been around these parts since before you all were born," Raul commented. "Exactly _how_ old-school is this guy? Is he older than me or something?"

"Well, he used to listen to their broadcasts on the eyebots-er-the robots, the little... the little round robots the Enclave used to use..." Arcade fumbled nervously. "I don't know, he just... he bought into all their patriotic propaganda."

Raul shrugged and returned to his task of pumping the bus tires. Niner and Vulpes weren't listening to the conversation to begin with. Sandra was the only one who still looked to be intrigued by the topic at hand.

It was strange, hearing Arcade talk about all this. Even stranger, when she came to the Mojave, almost nobody knew who the Enclave was, and the few who did were elderly folks recycling old rumors about a faction long dead. It wasn't the same as the Capital; everyone back east knew about the Enclave, about the eyebots, and about the old government's plans to rise to power once again. But here? The Enclave were a dead fairytale most hadn't heard of. In fact, she'd never heard anyone in the Mojave refer to the round floating robots as 'eyebots' before. Arcade was the only person she'd met on the west coast who knew the proper name for the little bots. Come to think of it, he knew a lot about science and energy weapons that most ordinary wasteland doctors wouldn't know...

Arcade gulped. Sandra hadn't realized it, but she was giving him a rather long, suspicious stare.

"How do you know so much?" she inquired.

"S-so much? I really don't know that much about anything, I just read a lot..."

"No, you know a lot. You know a lot for a Followers doctor, you know that?"

"R-really? Aw, shucks, thanks..."

"It's not a compliment, it's just... weird." Sandra's eyes narrowed at him. "Did you ever live on the east coast? Did you ever used to live around the Enclave?"

"What? No... I lived west of here. I learned a little about the Enclave when I lived near Navarro, that's all. The Enclave used to have a station there. I grew up salvaging parts from it," Arcade told her, suppressing a sigh of relief at his witty lie.

Sandra glared at him, letting the story sink in, trying to decide whether or not she believed him. But she came to the conclusion that Arcade really had no reason to lie to her; what would he gain from it? He'd been helping her and even saving her life ever since the two of them met. He wouldn't start lying to her now, especially about something so trivial.

Arcade, however, couldn't tell what she was thinking, and he grew more and more anxious by the second. He couldn't tell her the whole truth, not after what the Enclave put her through five years ago. She'd never look at him the same way again.

Neither of them noticed, but Vulpes was sitting on the stairs of the bus's entrance, eyeing them both, smirking at the frantic look on the doctor's face. He could almost feel the guilt oozing off of Arcade.

"Guys," Raul yelled at them, rising from under the hood. "I think she's ready to test. Someone get inside and start this baby up."

"Fuck yeah," Niner said, jumping over Vulpes and accidently kicking him in the shoulder. He plopped into the driver's seat and started the bus; to everyone's surprise, the engine roared to life.

Sandra and Niner cheered loudly. Raul let out a proud laugh, glad to see the bus repaired. Vulpes was standing near Arcade now, surveying him closely.

Arcade returned the look irritably. "You know... it's quite an accomplishment to get a two-hundred-year-old bus working again. You could be ogling that accomplishment instead of me, you know. Just saying."

"I'm surprised at you," Vulpes told him, his voice hushed. "I didn't pin you as a liar. But it's strewn all over your face... you're hiding something, aren't you?"

"All right, you caught me," Arcade said dismissively. "I was the second gunman on the Grassy Knoll. Kennedy had it coming. And I do it again."

"Spare me your wit," Vulpes snarled. "I know when people are lying. I once made a living reading and manipulating people like you on a regular basis. You were practically falling apart when she was asking you about your extensive scientific knowledge. I'd like to know why."

"You know, you have a lot of nerve to suspect _me_ of anything suspicious," Arcade deflected. "You were one of the Legion's most notorious killers... and not only that, a spy. Spies are known for being generally pretty untrustworthy, and your cruelty knows no bounds. Considering Sandra and I took you in when we really should've let you die in the wastes, you should really back off and stop acting like I owe you any explanations."

"No, doctor... _she_ took me in. _You_ wanted me dead," Vulpes corrected. "Yes, I have a colorful history, but here's the difference; you _know_ all of my history. But I don't know yours. In fact... none of your little friends know your past, do they? As long as you've been with them, you'd think there'd be some bond of trust between you now. It must be a hellish secret you're keeping, seeing as you've been hiding it the whole time you've known them. And I think..." he peered over to the bus, eyeing Sandra. "She might be interested in hearing some of my theories about your past."

"You don't know anything," Arcade growled. "Empty threats don't work on me, sorry."

"Empty threats? I'm not bluffing," Vulpes told him. "No... I do have my theories. You have a knack for deflecting personal questions, and you have a subtle nervous breakdown whenever anyone mentions the Enclave. I think I can put two and two together."

 _"Shhh!"_ Arcade swatted a hand, placing a finger against his lips.

Vulpes revealed a devilish smirk. "You give yourself away so easily. How men like you survive is beyond me. You couldn't tell a lie to save your life."

"All right... come here." Arcade grabbed him by the arm and pulled him aside, concealing the two of them around the corner of the nearest abandoned building. "Yes," he confirmed, his voice a nervous whisper. "Yes, all right? I'm tied to the Enclave. Is that what you want to hear?"

"I did, thank you," Vulpes snarked. "I can't wait to see how your little girlfriend reacts. She and the Enclave never saw eye-to-eye, did they?"

"No... you can't tell Sandra," Arcade gasped. "Listen... you can't tell her. You can't tell anyone. The NCR imprisons and executes anyone tied to the Enclave. Besides... the Enclave killed Sandra's father... and her best friend. If she knew... she'd..."

"See you for the hypocrite you are?" Vulpes retorted. "True, she would."

"I'm not a hypocrite."

"Yes, you are. You demonize me for my ties to the Legion, but you have the same guilt weighing on you regarding the Enclave."

"Oh, that is _so_ not the same thing. I've never crucified or genocided anyone."

"But the Enclave did. You're tied to them, and that's all Sandra or the Republic would need to hear before they decide that you're guilty."

"Listen, you manipulative fuck," Arcade seethed. "If you tell anyone about this, I'm gonna make sure the NCR knows that the Legion's greatest frumentarius is running around right under their noses. If you take me down, you're going down with me."

"Oh... so you _do_ have some fight in you," Vulpes remarked. "And here I thought you were just a homo-erotic beta male."

Arcade slipped the plasma defender from his belt, placing the barrel against Vulpes's chin. He didn't flinch, didn't blink. He continued to glare into Arcade as if nothing had happened.

"If you tell anyone," Arcade rasped furiously. "I'll burn a damn hole through your skull. I know I'm not a foe-Roman warrior like you, but I still think you'd have a hard time surviving a plasma blast to the face."

In the blink of an eye, Vulpes' arm shot to the side, knocking the plasma defender away. His other arm rocketed into Arcade's throat, clasping his collar and slamming him against the brick wall. Vulpes was smaller and shorter, but considerably faster. He held the doctor firmly against the wall, his blue eyes burning into Arcade's green ones.

"Don't think for a _moment_ that you're capable of threatening me, you wretch," Vulpes spat. "What, I can't play a few mind games with my new companions? I don't have the luxury of killing and torturing for fun anymore. Indulge me, doctor. Whenever I feel like making your life hell... you're gonna sit down, shut up, and take it like a man. You're barely worth my entertainment, fool. So, when I decide to fuck with you... you. Will. Do. _Nothing."_

Vulpes yanked his hand away. Arcade grabbed his throat, trying not to devolve into a coughing fit.

"You don't scare me," Arcade said just when Vulpes tried to walk away.

Vulpes turned, squinting at him.

"You're all bark and no bite," Arcade said, releasing a cough and gathering himself. "Or... as they say in these parts... all hat and no cattle."

"You've seen the results of my _bite_ with your own eyes, doctor," Vulpes fumed. "Don't think for a second that I wouldn't lash you to a cross."

Arcade straightened out his glasses, wearing an odd smile. "I'd like to see you try."

Vulpes stared at him for a moment, then meandered back to the bus. Arcade followed from far behind. Sandra and Niner hadn't noticed that they left; they were far too busy marveling over their new bus. Niner was bragging about how fast he would drive it, and Sandra was peeling off some of the damaged blue paint.

"All right, we'll get our first bounty from Randall & Associates, and then we'll go to Red Rock Canyon and see about arranging an alliance with the Great Khans," Sandra decided, picking up everyone's bags and carrying them inside. "Let's go!"

"Yeah... great," Raul sighed. "I guess I'll go back to sitting in the casino and doing nothing. Gotta admit... it's a cushy job..."

Raul said his goodbyes to everyone. Sandra, Arcade, Vulpes, and Niner climbed aboard the bus. Niner insisted on driving, and he ended up getting his wish, despite everyone's wariness of his driving skills. The others sat on the benches, Arcade sitting in the front, Vulpes far in back. Sandra was looking the bus up and down from the inside, already planning how she would decorate it. The bus drove off, starting slowly, then gradually picking up speed as it hobbled over Freeside's lumpy roads. As they rolled out of Freeside, Raul made his way back into Vegas alone. He stopped when he saw a massive crowd gathered outside of Gomorrah.

The crowd consisted of panicked tourists, employees, and securitrons. Raul couldn't help but notice a few of the panicked victims were covered in blood.

He didn't have to ask any questions; Raul already knew what had happened. Ever since the death of Mr. House, crime in the strip had skyrocketed. Freesiders seemed happier, but merging the strip with Freeside had its downsides. Now, Freeside thugs thought they could do whatever they wanted, and anyone who got the notion to rob one of the casinos didn't hesitate to act on their psychotic thoughts. This was the third time in four months Raul saw the aftermath of an attempted robbery. Judging from all the blood, the securitrons had eliminated the robbers, as they usually did.

"Looks like a crime spree," a suited stranger said to Raul. "How often does this happen here?"

"Huh... you must be new here," Raul replied. "It's been happening more often lately. People are tense about the war around the corner. They're trying to horde caps and run for the hills before the shit hits the fan, I guess."

"Sounds like a real problem," the stranger figured. He had a smooth, eerie voice. "You know... I have some experience with keeping the peace in a restless society."

"Do you, now..." Raul uttered.

"I do," the stranger said, meeting Raul's eyes from under the rim of his hat, his sunglasses shining in the Vegas lights. "My name is Mr. Burke. Pleasure to meet you."


	6. Khans & Contracts

The bus rocked and jerked driving over the ancient roads, but Sandra absolutely loved it. This was _much_ faster than walking all over the Mojave; it would be ten times easier to complete tasks across the map now. This bus would save them loads of time.

When they drove down the road extending north of Goodsprings, Niner floored the gas pedal, racing through the swarm of cazadors that inhabited the path. Some of them fluttered away in alarm, others bashing into the windshield rather comically. Sandra found it funny, until she noticed that the bus was speeding downhill and out of control. They were headed for a fork in the road, and Niner slammed on the brakes, bringing them to a screeching, bumpy stop.

Everyone sat in silence, regaining their composure. Then, Niner easefully drove onward, parking at the entrance to Red Rock Canyon.

When everyone prepared to leave the vehicle, Vulpes shot Arcade a severe look as he stepped outside. Niner hopped out, and Sandra stopped, noticing the pale, sickly expression Arcade wore.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Motion sickness?"

"N-no, it's..." Arcade paused, thinking of Vulpes's threat and considering coming clean. He wanted to tell her everything, about his involvement in the Enclave and his family's past, but there was no telling how she'd react. Sandra was forgiving regarding Vulpes's Legion background, but that was different; the Legion weren't the ones who butchered Sandra's father and her best friend. The Legion weren't the ones who decorated her body with laser-fire scars. Sandra had a terrible experience with the Enclave. He couldn't tell her that he and his family were part of the very same faction that had ruined her life.

"Yeah... motion sickness," Arcade sighed. "Sorry, I just... I don't feel well."

Sandra cocked her head, giving him a concerned stare. "Wanna sit this one out? I really only need Vulpes for this. He's gonna tell the Great Khans about the Legion's plans."

"Yeah... he's good at ratting people out," Arcade murmured irritably. "Are you sure you don't want some backup?"

"I'll have Niner and Foxxy with me," Sandra replied. "I'll be fine. Grab a water and relax until you feel better."

She gave him a gentle pat on the arm, then exited the bus.

Arcade sat by himself, letting out a stressed sigh. He would have to tell her sooner or later, or else, he feared, Vulpes would do it for him.

Meanwhile, Sandra marched through the canyon with Vulpes, Niner, and Scar. The Great Khans were turning their heads, giving the deathclaw strange looks. Sandra snickered.

They wandered the spacious camp, admiring the towering mountains that were relatively rare in most of the Mojave. When they found the biggest hut, Sandra led them inside, assuming the biggest hut must've belonged to whoever their leader was.

Inside were two long tables, at at the end of the room was a special table along the wall. In the middle sat the burly Papa Khan, and on either side of him were two allies, a subordinate named Regis, and a Legionary named Karl.

Papa Khan blinked, setting his enormous hunk of meat on his plate and wiping his bearded face.

Papa Khan and Regis didn't recognize Sandra's group, but Karl was trying to mask over a look of shock; he met eyes with Vulpes, his face draining of color.

"Can I help you?" Papa Khan said. All the Khans looked around, eyeing Sandra's group.

"Yeah... I'm Courier Six," Sandra told him. "I bet you've heard of me by now. I just wanted to talk to you guys. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Papa Khan replied. "I like your manners, kid. Come pull up a chair. Have a bite to eat."

The gang pulled chairs up to the opposite side of the main table and sat themselves. Vulpes was directly across from Karl, glaring daggers at him. Karl was eating, pretending not to notice.

"So... I hear you guys have a treaty with the Legion or something," Sandra said. "That true?"

"It is," Papa Khan informed. "Ever since the NCR slaughtered a good number of our people, we've been forced to uproot and run multiple times. The Legion have been relatively understanding regarding the threat of the Republic... and they can give us the numbers to even out the playing field. Anything to keep my people safe."

"Yah, so... is Jessup around?" Niner asked.

"He's out and about, yeah," Papa Khan replied. "You'll probably find him with Jack and Diane. He's picking up a chem shipment."

"I'ma go find him," Niner said, slipping out of the room.

Sandra took a stick of roasted squirrel and held it under the table, allowing Scar to munch on it.

"So... what brought you guys here?" Regis inquired. "Are you looking to propose some kind of peace treaty? You're on the side of New Vegas in this conflict, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Sandra said. "I just wanted to know where you all stand. I've got nothing against the Great Khans, so I'm hoping to work something out. Something diplomatic."

"That's mighty upstanding of you," Papa Khan commented. "Especially considering how your military treats our people."

"Oh, trust me, I'm not fighting for the NCR." Sandra frowned, thinking of Boone and sighing. "I'm working towards independence."

"Well... I'm sorry to say, I'm not sure a peaceful arrangement can be made, now that we've come to an understanding with the Legion," Papa Khan told her. "I appreciate your effort for diplomacy, kid, but I've got to do what's best for my people."

"And the Legion is the solution to the plight of the Great Khans," Karl interjected. "Lord Lanius had bestowed a great honor to the Khans in allowing them to ally with us, and the Great Khans are respected among my people. The Legion respects the mighty Khans, unlike the profligates of Vegas, who have done nothing but shun and murder the people of this prestigious tribe."

"Really..." Vulpes intertwined his fingers, his eyes narrowing interestedly at Karl. "Legionnaires respect no man or woman outside of their own ideals. If memory serves me right, the Legion would see the Great Khans as posers by comparison. Profligate tribals."

"N-nonsense," Karl countered. "The Great Khans are strong and enduring. We are pleased to have them fight at our side."

"You're a frumentarius, Karl. Do you know what that word means, Father Khan?" Vulpes looked to Papa Khan. "The word means _spy_. Karl was once in a position to make the Twisted Hairs into allies as well. He sat with them, ate with them, and proposed false treaties of peace with them. Then, the Twisted Hairs were assimilated into the Legion by force. Those who weren't killed, anyway."

"That was _your doing_ -" Karl began, stopping and recollecting his composure.

Papa Khan's eyes shifted from Vulpes to Karl. "What is going on here?"

"Karl plans to betray you and your tribe, Father Khan." Vulpes sounded as casual as ever, though Karl was fuming. "Just as he has countless tribes before yours. You cannot trust a Legionnaire, especially a frumentarius. I was once with the Legion, and they conspired to kill me. They will do the same to you."

" _Nonsense_. The Great Khans are treasured allies," Karl argued.

"Right. And I'm sure you can't _wait_ to fight by their side," Vulpes snarled. "Fighting alongside women on the battlefield. Fighting alongside chem-users. Fighting alongside alcohol-consumers. Because you see them as equals, yes? Because they are equals to the Legion? Or, perhaps, even superior?"

" _Enough_! The Legion _far_ surpasses this filthy tribe of chem-addicted whores! These reprobates wouldn't even be able to fight a simple Legion recruit! They will _die_ at the feet of the Legion due to their inferiority, and you _know_ it!"

At that, Karl's face went white, his mouth hanging agape. The Great Khans rose from their seats, circling him like vultures. Vulpes smirked nastily at him.

Papa Khan looked disgusted. "Khans - execute the Legion dog."

Three of the Khans jumped on top of Karl, slashing and stabbing at him with their blades. Karl screamed and bled, crumbling in the corner of the room and dying in a puddle of his own blood. Vulpes merely watched, leaning back with his arms folded, and Sandra observed the slaughter as she chewed on the most delicious hunk of brahmin steak she'd had in a long time.

Papa Khan's eyes turned to Vulpes. "You... you're Legion too, are you?"

"Formerly," Vulpes replied. "My alliance changed when they tried to assassinate me. Like I said... they can be rather untrustworthy."

Papa Khan nodded, glaring down thoughtfully. "Very well. You've given me a lot to think about."

The other Khans returned to their seats and resumed their meals, paying no mind to the gurgling body of Karl in the corner.

"So..." Sandra swallowed the last of her steak and cleared her throat. "Are you still considering siding with the Legion?"

"Well... I suppose I can't," Papa Khan told her. "Not if it will jeopardize my people. I can't be sure of their intentions. Not after what I just heard..."

"If you support us, we'll return the favor," Sandra promised. "There's plenty of land in the Mojave for you to live on. The NCR isn't gonna expand anymore, not unless they can win the dam. You won't have to worry about them. Oh, and Bonnie Springs was cleared out a while back. You can take the town outside of the canyon now."

"Who are you to give us permission to move across the land?" Papa Khan asked.

"I'm the person who owns New Vegas," Sandra replied. "And I plan to share it with everyone who doesn't try to kill us. I think that's fair."

Papa Khan pondered on this.

"Oh, one more thing," Sandra added. "Niner is talking to your chem manufacturers right now about setting up a big chem deal. The Great Khans can distribute chems to the strip and medicinal chems to the Old Mormon Fort, and everyone in Vegas is willing to pitch in a little bit to pay for the supply. It would be a monthly thing. You'd have a steady source of income, and you'd have all of us as allies. Does that sound good?"

"It does," Papa Khan agreed. "But you'll have to give me some time to think on this matter. I need to talk to all of my subordinates before I make any big decisions."

"That's cool. We'll drop by in a week or so to talk about it. Does that work?"

"Yes. Thank you, courier."

Sandra waved him off and left the hut with Vulpes and Scar.

"Jesus, that was amazing," Sandra said, grinning at Vulpes. "You got inside Karl's head and you _totally_ screwed him over. That was so cool."

"It wasn't difficult," Vulpes muttered. "Karl never was very intelligent. He didn't fit the mold to be a frumentarius."

They entered a crevice in the canyon where Jack and Diane sat outside of their trailer around a campfire. Niner and Jessup were standing beside them, talking business.

"Oy, Six, I think we got it worked out," Niner said, giving Sandra a lazy salute. "Jessup's gonna take care of all the details."

Jessup and Sandra stared at each other. Jessup was one of the Khans who assisted Benny in ambushing her a long time ago.

"So..." Jessup said awkwardly. "Ever find Benny?"

"Oh yeah. He's dead." Sandra smiled.

"Yeah... cool," Jessup uttered. "So, are we... are we good?"

"You tried to kill me and you buried me alive. What do you think?" Sandra replied.

Jessup bit his lip.

"I'm just fucking with you," Sandra laughed. "I really don't care anymore. Just don't go around attacking people anymore, all right?"

"Yeah... it was a shitty thing to do, and Benny didn't even pay me for the job," Jessup replied. "Not gonna make that mistake again. I hope you shoved that gaughty fucking gun of his up his ass."

Sandra nodded. The group finished their conversation and said their goodbyes before returning to the bus. Arcade was sitting in the back, pretending to be asleep. Vulpes scoffed at him.

Niner drove up the Cazador's pass again, this time with less hassle, though the ride was still as bumpy as ever. They rolled through Goodsprings and drove past Primm, stopping at a small building just outside of the town. It was a tiny shack atop a hill, and outside was a sloppily-painted sign, which read; Randall & Associates.

"Well... this is the bounty place," Sandra said, leaning out the window and observing the tiny building. "Jesus. It's dinky."

"Er... do bounty outfits usually hire gigantic groups of people?" Niner asked her. "Raul said they're only looking to hire one person, didn't he?"

"Well, they can hire me," Sandra replied simply. "We'll still split the money between us. We just need the money to live on, really. It's not like we need to get filthy rich again. We just need something to string us along financially while we're doing this whole Vegas restoration thing."

Niner shrugged halfheartedly. "I'unno. They're paying you a one-person wage. You think you'll get enough money to support all of us?"

"Bounties pay well," Vulpes informed. "Legion elites occasionally hired profligate outfits to carry out assassinations that would break the Legion conduct in some way, side-stepping the rules of the Legion. Believe me, I know. Legionnaires spared no expense in such cases. Sometimes, they would pay as much as ten to twenty Areus pieces. That would equate to one or two thousand of your wasteland caps."

"Bloody _hell_!" Niner beamed, his tone changing instantly. "Well, fuck it! Forget everything I said! Get in there, Six! Get us some riches!"

"Hang on," Arcade interjected from the back seat, waking up from his pretend sleep. "I'll go with you."

"You sure?" Sandra said. "I'm just gonna sign up and get a bounty. I'll be in and out pretty fast."

"I just want to see who we're working for," Arcade told her, and he wasn't lying, though he secretly wanted to vacate the bus for a moment, just to be away from Vulpes for a few minutes.

So, Sandra and Arcade left the bus and strolled up to the shack, pushing the door open and creeping inside. The interior was a one-room office, complete with a fridge, a countertop, a weapon shelf, and a personal cabinet behind the desk opposite them. At the desk sat a man, his hat tenting over his face as he typed quickly on his typewriter. When he glanced up, Sandra was surprised to see a pair of goggles and a bandana hiding nearly every inch of his face.

"Whoa," Sandra smirked. "What's the face gear for? Did you just get out of a sandstorm?"

"Uh... pardon us," Arcade added, trying to be more polite. "We're just here because we heard you were looking for a bounty hunter."

The man's cheeks moved, and Sandra guessed he was squinting at them rather intently behind his goggles.

"You look more like you oughta' be patchin' people up, not killin' 'em," the man told Arcade.

"Oh... not me." Arcade shook his head. "It's her. She wants to sign on for the job. I'm just here because I have to keep her from dying whenever she gets into trouble."

The man's attention shifted to Sandra, and she felt his gaze zero in on her.

"You're young," he said. "But you have a few extra years in your eyes."

Sandra gulped, not knowing what to say.

"I'll be honest... I wasn't expecting a woman to be my first volunteer," the man went on. "But you ain't no ordinary girl, are you? You really want a job workin' as a bounty hunter?"

Sandra nodded.

"Well... in that case, I only have one question, and answer me honestly." The man straightened up, leaning on his desk and intertwining his fingers. "Are you willing to kill people for money? Yes, or no?"

"Absolutely," Sandra agreed. "I've had to kill people plenty of times before, just in self-defense. I might as well get paid for it."

"That's good, but I need to be upfront with you. You'll be pursuing high-risk bounties. Many of these people are armed, extremely dangerous, and well-connected. The pay is good, but you've gotta come back alive if you wanna collect it. This ain't a job for the faint of heart, and it definitely ain't a job for the reckless."

Sandra gave the man understanding nod, trying to ignore Arcade's snide glance. He shot her a doubtful look when the word 'reckless' was mentioned.

"Don't worry about it," Sandra said casually. "I've been in plenty of dangerous situations before. I can handle this."

"I don't doubt it, kiddo. You've got the scars to prove it. Hell, you might have even more scars on your body than I have on my face."

Sandra blinked. "What happened to your face?"

"That's a story for another time, stranger," the man replied. "I'm ready to dish our your first bounty, if you're ready. Do you have any more questions before we get started with the business?"

Sandra thought on this. "Well... who are you?"

"Yes, and what kind of people will we be pursuing?" Arcade tacked on. "I know they're dangerous, but... we aren't killing any people who might be considered innocent, are we?"

"Well, first off; my name is Steven Randall, owner and operator of Randall & Associates," the man named Randall answered. "And second; no, you ain't gonna be killing anyone who doesn't have it coming some way or another. I ain't gonna send you out to kill preachers or charity volunteers or any shit like that. I'm very particular of what bounties I accept to process, and I can assure you, I ain't in the business of killin' innocents. Some targets might have a darker past than others, but most always, they're connected with crime families, they're traitors of some kind, or they're just a savage raider that belongs to one of them fucked up tribes. In my book, they all have it coming."

Arcade nodded. "Okay, fair enough..."

"So... who do you work for?" Sandra inquired.

"That's for me to know, and you to find out," Randall replied. "Don't worry. I ain't taking orders from crime lords or anything."

"How does this work?" Sandra went on. "I'm ready to get started. How do we do this?"

"Well... first off, you need this." Randall stood and unlocked his personal cabinet, pulling out a stylish bounty duster, similar to the one he himself was wearing. "Secondly, I'm gonna brief you on the rules, then you'll be good to go. Once you kill a target, remove one of their fingers and bring it back to me. Once it's all said and done, you get your payment, and that's that. You ain't gotta kill them nicely, but be sure you don't kill any bystanders in the crossfire."

"Why do I have to collect their fingers? Can't I bring back their heads or something?" Sandra asked, remembering the bounties she did for the NCR, when she was instructed to remove the heads of Fiend leaders.

Randall reared back, his face scrunching up beneath his bandana. "What are you, some kinda psychopath?"

Sandra shrugged.

"We use fingers because it's a quick and easy way to identify specific people," Randall explained. "I ain't making a crazy finger necklace or anything."

"That'd be pretty cool..."

"Listen, kid. Are you ready for your first job?"

"Yup."

"All right. Just give me your name so I can add it to the files."

"My name's Sandra. And some people call me Courier Six. That might be important to document, too."

"Why's that?"

Sandra didn't say; Courier Six was the mysterious label she carried around the Mojave, the nickname of the person who allegedly worked to own all of Vegas. Perhaps whatever enemies this firm had would think twice about enacting any revenge on her in the future if they knew who she really was.

"No reason," Sandra said. "It's just a nickname people know me by."

"All right... your first target is Tom Quigly. Tom is a former NCR ranger. He used to be one of the best marksmen in the Mojave... but as I heard, he apparently contracted syphilis, and steadily lost his fucking mind. Despite his efficiency, he was drummed out of the rangers... nowadays, he takes great pleasure in sniping brahmin caravans from afar. Naturally, this behavior ain't acceptable. He's usually camped out in the west hills of the old gas station, near Fiend territory. Any questions?"

"Nope," Sandra said. "That should be enough for us to go on. Thanks, Randall. We'll be back soon."

Sandra headed for the door alongside Arcade. Randall stared after her for a moment.

"You know somethin', kid," he called after her. "You ain't who I expected to come around lookin' for bounty work."

Sandra glanced over her shoulder at him. "How come?"

"Typically, it's older men, grisly sonsa' bitches who've been hunting bounties and doin' merc work all their lives," Randall told her. "You best be careful out there, kid. Don't hesitate, neither. Because they sure as hell won't."

Sandra gave him a nod and a salute, then marched out of the shack, ready to claim yet another life.


	7. The Price of Penance

Randall seemed to be pleased with the courier's work.

After handing over Tom Quigly's finger, Randall instructed her to investigate a waylayed caravan and terminate whoever attacked it. She was surprised to find a holotape left behind at the canyon wreckage, which contained a few old audio documents from the Enclave. Sandra was scared at first, scared and angry, thinking that the Enclave were still functioning in the Mojave; but she later found out that the Enclave officers who assaulted the caravan had long since defected the old military, and were now simply scavenging the wasteland to survive. One of them had died in the crossfire of the attack, and Sandra later discovered the survivor attempting to break into an old Brotherhood safehouse. After planting a 12 gauge round in his gut, she proudly took his index finger back to Randall.

Soon after, she and her friends were asked to deal with a vicious Fiend named Eileen, who was notorious for castrating male captives and consuming their flesh. Sandra, who had a majority of males among her group, thought it best not to fight Eileen up close and personally; with her money from the first two bounties, she purchased a specially customized fat man from Gun Runners. It was a beautiful, outrageously deadly machine called Esther; from a distance, she was able to send the entire Fiend encampment into nuclear oblivion. Killing Eileen in the explosion was the easy part; finding her body in the rubble and the mess of random body parts, however, took nearly two days of digging through broken concrete and corpses.

After two weeks of bounty hunting, Sandra thought it best to take a break. She was eager to get back out there, but she knew that her friends wanted a break. Niner parked the bus in Primm, and he spent a day at the Vikki & Vance casino, gambling his caps and complaining that the casino wasn't nearly as nice as the ones in Vegas. Arcade stopped at the NCR base on the outskirts of Primm, taking some time to tend to their sick and wounded. Vulpes didn't do much; he spent most of his time in the town by himself, sight-seeing and giving himself some much-needed alone time.

Sandra was at Randall's shack now, sharing drinks and trading stories with him. She'd been wearing her bounty duster ever since day one, and it already seemed to have some wear and tear.

"No, I'm serious," Randall was saying. "Marshal Cooper was the deadliest sum'bitch I've ever seen. I saw him kill three men single-handedly... with, a fucking, fork. I wouldn't believe that shit if I didn't watch him do it."

"No _way_ ," Sandra laughed, swatting a hand at him. "There's no way in hell that happened."

"I was there. I _saw_ it happen."

"You're bullshitting me."

"No I ain't, I assure you."

Randall refilled her shot glass for her, then upturned the bottle and gulped down two swigs. "Y'know, you got me distracted. I need to have this document filled out before the end of the week."

"When was the last time you just drank and bullshitted with someone?" Sandra snarked. "Take an afternoon off. Sheesh."

"All right, but if I get drunk and start typing shit crooked, I'm kicking you outta my office."

Sandra chuckled, her gaze lingering on him. Since she met him, Randall never took off his old cowboy hat, nor the bandana or the goggles that covered his face. She grew more and more curious about it every day.

"Hey, Randall... can I ask you something?" she questioned.

"Sure, kid. Fire away."

"Why do you cover your face up? What happened?"

Randall was about to resume typing, but he hesitated, releasing a sigh.

"One day, a long time ago... my wife and I took in a stranger that came knocking," he began. "He asked if we needed any work done. He was a big help, so we let him stick around. Then... I fucked up. Let my guard down. He clubbed me in my sleep, tied and gagged me. Then... he made me watch."

Sandra felt a sick knot forming in her stomach. She knew where this was going...

"He... raped my wife right in front of me. Then... he cut her open, pulled out the baby, and butchered it right there. He carved up most of my face, then left me for dead. That was fifteen years ago. Been looking for him ever since. For years, he stayed two steps ahead, meeting families in isolated areas and repeating his crimes. I heard he had a run-in with the Regulators back in DC, but that's just a rumor. He's probably long dead by now, knowing how many people he's crossed..."

"That's why you became a bounty hunter...?" Sandra uttered.

Randall stared at his whiskey bottle. "Yeah, it was at first. But this past fifteen years has felt like fifty. I resigned myself to this position, namely because... well, in all the time that's passed, I've come to grips with the fact that chasing that man is a dead end."

"What was his name?"

"His name... was Marko. He's most assuredly dead by now. But... if you ever do see him out there, shoot him for me."

"Will do."

The room went quiet. Sandra felt somewhat uncomfortable, feeling guilty for bringing such a horrific story out of Randall.

"Well..." Sandra held up her arm, flashing her scarred wrist. "I got this one from the Enclave in DC. I got the shit knocked outta me by those bastards. And this one." She pointed to the scar on her head. "I got this one when someone shot me in the head and buried me alive in Goodsprings."

Randall stared at her. "Shit fire."

"I know, right?" Sandra attempted a smile. "Me and you should both be dead after everything we've been through."

"Don't go sayin' that, kid. You're jinxing my ass."

"Ooo, and this one!" Sandra peeled back the sleeve of her duster, showing a long scar on her upper arm. "I got this one from a guy named Zimmer. He was the head of a syndicate that me and my friends took down."

"How old are you?"

"I'm 23. Why?"

"Holy fuck, kid. You've been through more than most people my age."

"Yeah, well... I get into trouble a lot. That's my thing."

"I don't doubt that shit for one second."

They were quiet for a moment. Randall squinted at her, seeming to study the shotgun leaning on the chair and the handgun on her hip.

"Is that all you use?" he asked. "When you're out huntin' bounties, I mean. A shotgun, and... what's that in your holster?"

"Oh... this is a specially-made 45," Sandra informed, pulling Joshua Graham's pistol from her side and showing it off. "I use plasma grenades too. I love plasma grenades. They pack the biggest punch."

"So, you ain't got any long-ranged rifles, huh," Randall figured. "Ya' might need to use stealth in some of these situations, y'know. You're gonna have to get yourself something for those situations. A sniper rifle... or an anti-material rifle."

Sandra shrugged. "I'm not really good with that kind of stuff..."

"Well, ya' need to get good. You're gonna need more than close-range shoot-em-ups and overkill explosives dealing with some of these people. Sometimes, if you get too close, they'll get the drop on your ass. Especially if you get cocky."

"I know. That's what Esther is for."

"Esther?"

"My mini-nuke launcher. Oh, that reminds me... you should probably take a dose of radaway, Randall. Eileen's finger is probably radioactive."

Randall let out a coughing laugh. "You just do everything as violently as fuckin' possible, don't you?"

"Yup. Overkill gets the job done."

"Ye'ap, true enough."

"Well... I should probably leave you alone to type, I guess."

"All right. Do you want your next bounty before you go?"

"Yeah."

"Your next bounty is on a guy named Cullen. Recently, the NCR has kicked the shit out of the Jackals gang... but they've been on the rise as of late, thanks to the charismatic Mr. Cullen. He's a new leader of theirs, and thanks to him, even the sorry-ass Jackals are getting back on their feet. Rumor has it that he's camped out at the old police station right now, gettin' ready to organize an attack on Primm."

"He's that close by?"

"Ye'ap. That's why I figured I'd give you the bounty now. You and your little army could take care of it on your way out of town, no issue. He's tough, but he and his little crew ain't nothing special. They're just like any other brainless bandits. As long as you don't get cocky, you and your little buddies should be able to handle him no problem."

"Okay. I'll go gather everyone up from town. Thanks, Randall."

"Stop by again soon."

Sandra gave him a smile and a wave, then left to find her friends.

* * *

Niner was smashed, trying to find the exit of the casino and repeatedly getting lost and falling to the floor. Meanwhile, Arcade was bandaging an injured woman at the NCR camp nearby, and Vulpes was standing outside of the abandoned gas station, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, watching Arcade from afar.

Lieutenant Hayes was thanking Arcade for the help, and when Hayes tried to pay him, Arcade politely refused, stating that they needed the money more than he did.

Vulpes couldn't hear them from such a distance, but he knew what was going on.

"What a fool," he hissed. "Turning down payment for delivering a service. I'll never understand weaklings."

The more he spied on Arcade, the more he became convinced that the profligate doctor was, despite his Enclave background, relatively boring. He didn't understand Sandra's fascination with Arcade; he was weak, and he hated violence. Even more confusing, Arcade seemed to be a perfect polar opposite of Vulpes himself - yet Sandra clung to both of them as if they were her best friends. Why, he wondered? What the hell was going on in that insane head of hers?

Arcade remained knelt over one of the makeshift cots, tightening a gauze wrap around the woman's wounded leg. Vulpes's eyes shifted to the road south, where he spotted another group of NCR soldiers approaching. Probably a support unit, he figured. The NCR were doing poorly in this town; that much was evident, judging by all the escaped convicts running amok.

But this group of NCR soldiers looked different than the others; a few of them wore trench coats and even masks, and their leader - Vulpes scoffed when he noticed this - was a woman, with short brown hair, gigantic sunglasses, and armor that made her look manlier than any of her male followers.

"Rangers," Vulpes uttered.

The group of NCR rangers approached the campsite. Lieutenant Hayes marched up to them, giving them a formal greeting and expressing his relief that help had finally arrived.

Vulpes watched from afar, trying to listen, but he couldn't make out what they were saying.

The butch woman reared back, letting out a barking laugh and shaking her head. Hayes's expression fell, looking disappointed.

Curious, Vulpes stood fully upright and drew closer, trying to hear the commotion up close.

"We're not a relief effort, Hayes," the butch woman cackled. "Come on. Do you really think they'd send rangers to help with a shithole town like this?"

Hayes frowned. "I suppose not."

Vulpes continued to march closer. Arcade, as well as many of the others in the camp, were all turning their heads, eavesdropping on the conversation as well.

"We're hunting a couple of bounties," the woman said, her sunglasses glistening as her gaze moved to Arcade. "And I think we just found one of them."

The color drained from Arcade's face.

Vulpes stopped a few yards away, standing on the other side of the road, his hands balling into fists. The NCR put bounties on their heads? It wasn't surprising, with Sandra working to seize Vegas for herself rather than the NCR.

"What, Arcade?" Hayes asked, genuinely surprised. "He's been helping out since he got here. He's not-"

"He's not innocent, Hayes," the woman said a bit too knowingly. "We're taking him."

She shoved Hayes aside, strolling up to Arcade and stopping a few inches away.

Arcade was on his feet now, though his heart was hammering.

The butch woman let a nasty smile crawl across her face. "Doctor Arcade Israel Gannon, you're under arrest for conspiracy and obstruction of justice."

"What...?" Arcade gasped. "I haven't done anything..."

"You didn't _have_ to do anything," the butch woman sneered disgustingly. "Your family was an Enclave family, right? That's all we need to know. You're considered a threat to the Republic, and we don't allow threats to slip through the cracks."

Vulpes laughed rather loudly.

Hayes, Arcade, and the butch woman all turned to him.

"Him? You believe _him_ to be a threat?" Vulpes snarked, striding forward and chuckling. "By Caesar, you're all deluded! _Look_ at him! He's as spineless as a blasted jellyfish!"

The butch woman glared at him, then faced Arcade again.

Arcade gulped, shakily adjusting his glasses. "He... he's really not wrong..."

"You're a threat to national security," the butch woman glowered. "Anyone associated with the Enclave must be imprisoned or executed with extreme prejudice. You, Doctor Gannon, are part of the primary threat to the Republic."

"Excuse me, man-woman," Vulpes interjected, marching closer and holding up his displacer glove. "Your primary threat is right here."

The rangers turned their guns on Vulpes, though the frumentarius didn't flinch. A wicked smile grew on his face, his glove humming as he curled his fist.

Arcade glimpsed nervously between them.

"Are you challenging us, boy?" the woman snarled.

Vulpes felt a stab of anger. "You said you were pursuing _bounties_ , not _a_ bounty. I assume your next target will be another ally of Courier Six, yes? Say, for example... a defected frumentarius rumored to have annihilated multiple settlements in the Mojave?"

The butch woman's expression hardened.

"Vulpes Inculta, the greatest of the Legion's frumentarii," Vulpes said, drawing nearer. "He's your next target. Am I right?"

"Don't," Arcade whispered, shaking his head and giving Vulpes a stern look. "Don't..."

"Don't what, doctor?" Vulpes replied nonchalantly.

Arcade swallowed again, took in a breath, and said something only Vulpes understood. "Adepto auxilium... tunc, subsequor."

"What?" the butch woman snapped. "What the fuck are you saying?"

Vulpes and Arcade shared a long, tense stare.

"Very well," Vulpes said dismissively. "Good luck finding your frumentarius, soldiers. I meant you no disrespect. Just giving you a hard time, as it were."

"Watch yourself from now on, boy," the butch woman growled. "Don't play games with the rangers. If you know anything about the frumentarius-"

"I don't, I assure you," Vulpes shrugged. "I've heard tell that he's a rather nasty piece of work, but I've no information on his whereabouts. I apologize for getting involved in your lucrative bounty business."

Feeling sickened that he showed any manners to the Republic, Vulpes marched up to Arcade, still wearing a faint hint of a smirk.

"So... a traitor to the country," the fox grinned. "You're in for it now, aren't you, doctor?"

Arcade glared at him.

Vulpes spoke in a low, quiet voice, one only Arcade could hear. "I've wanted to do this since we met."

Then, Vulpes reared back and threw a punch with his unarmed hand, his knuckles colliding with Arcade's forehead and knocking him out cold.

The doctor fell limp and hit the ground, and the rangers knelt over him, tying up his hands, ankles, arms and legs. When they were finished, the butch woman threw Arcade over her shoulder, and the rangers marched off with their prize.

"Thanks for all the help, you little smartass," the butch woman called back, waving at Vulpes. "In the future, watch your tongue when you're in the presence of an NCR ranger."

"I'll be sure to do that," Vulpes replied.

The rangers headed down the road, out of Primm and toward the abandoned police station, which was barely within eyeshot.

Vulpes crossed his arms, smirking devilishly and watching them march away.

"Idiots."

* * *

The rangers left with Arcade right around the time Sandra decided to leave Randall's office.

When Niner came stumbling out of the casino, he found Vulpes standing near the NCR camp, staring down the road where the rangers had departed. Vulpes ordered Niner to follow him back to Randall's shack without bothering to explain the situation first.

When Vulpes and Niner found themselves marching up the hill toward Randall & Associates, Sandra flung the door open, surprised to see the two of them.

"Hey... what's up?" Sandra asked. "I thought you guys would want to relax all day. How come you're back already? Where's Arcade?"

"Go inside," Vulpes ordered, pointing to Randall's shack. "There's something we need to discuss, and it's urgent. You! You drunken reprobate! Pay attention!" Vulpes turned his attention to Niner, who was singing an old Johnny Cash song and stumbling on seemingly nothing.

Vulpes shoved the drunk Niner inside, and Sandra followed them. They shut the door and stood in Randall's office, Sandra staring at Vulpes and waiting for him to explain.

Randall looked up from his typewriter.

"Vulpes, what's wrong?" Sandra asked. "You're worrying me. What happened?"

"You've made more enemies than you know," Vulpes responded grimly. "The Republic is taking action against you now. They must know what you plan to do with Vegas, and they're taking precautions to make you second-guess your actions."

"What?"

"They've placed bounties on our heads," Vulpes explained. "The rangers took your doctor away. There's a bounty on my head as well. Possibly all of ours."

 _"_ _What?!"_ Sandra gasped. "They took Arcade away?! And you just let them go? Why didn't you stop them?!"

"I couldn't care less about your stupid doctor friend."

" _Vulpes_ -!"

"And in any case, I planned to fight the Republic, but your doctor instructed me not to."

"Why in the hell would he do that?!"

"Because he's got more brains than you, woman. That's why. He instructed me to get help, and then, to follow his trail. So, that's what I'm doing."

Randall had completely abandoned his typing now, listening to the argument with intrigue.

Sandra was fuming. "That... that doesn't make sense. If they wanted to stop me, why didn't they just put the bounty on my head instead of his? What did he do wrong? Why would they go after him?"

Vulpes sighed. "I suspect because of his... past."

"His past? What're you talking about?"

"I know where they're going. If you want to follow their trail, we need to act quickly. Otherwise, your doctor is as good as dead, and those rangers will come for us next."

"Where are they going?"

"They veered off the road and approached the abandoned police station between here and the Mojave Outpost."

"Then we have to go! Before-"

"Hold up," Randall interrupted, rising from his chair. "Tell me... what in the everlovin' hell are you all talking about?"

"It's a long story," Sandra panted. "I'll tell you everything later. I have to go get my friend."

"No, you'll tell me _now_ ," Randall insisted. "I wanna know who you are. Why in the hell are the NCR rangers coming after you?"

"Because... I'm taking Vegas!" Sandra blurted. "I shouldn't tell you this, but I just... I'm doing something big, and the NCR is hurting my friends because of it. It's a really long story, and I don't have time to-"

"Your friend didn't do anything wrong, then," Randall synopsized. "He didn't do anything to warrant a bounty? He didn't kill an NCR soldier, or sleep with anyone's daughter, or anything?"

 _"_ _He didn't do anything!"_ Sandra proclaimed. "Look, Mr. House invited me to the Lucky 38 in Vegas, and I'm the one in control of the 38 now. And the NCR knows about it! They're trying to take control away from me, and they're going after my friends to do it!"

"So it's crooked politics," Randall said, a note of disdain in his voice. "That kinda shit really gives our profession a bad name."

"Wait..." Niner slurred, just realizing what was going on. "They took the doctor man...?"

 _"_ _Yes!"_ Sandra shrieked impatiently. "We need to go after him. I'm leaving!" She pulled out her combat shotgun, checking that it was loaded. "I swear to God, I'm gonna kill every last one of those fucking NCR pricks. They're just as bad as the Enclave. I swear to God, _I'll kill them_!"

"Hold your damn horses," Randall demanded. "Calm your shit, kid. You go in there with a hot head, and they're gonna fill your ass with bullets."

"It always worked before," Sandra glowered.

"You plan to kill them, huh?" Randall asked. "You plan to kill a group of NCR rangers? You know that ain't gonna be easy."

"I don't care. They wanna wage a war? I'll show them what it's like to go to war with me. I did it to the Enclave - I'll do it to them, too."

"So... you don't plan to leave any of 'em alive, huh."

"No. I don't."

"Well... I reckon I'm dragging my ass out there, then." Randall went to his cabinet, unlocked it, and pulled a unique-looking 44 from inside, checking the chamber. "I don't need the NCR sniffing up my ass and lookin' for a reason to lock me up... but if you plan to kill every last one of 'em, there won't be anyone left alive to contest to my involvement in this little rescue mission. As long as you make damn sure you kill every one of 'em... I got no reason to worry. They'll never know I was involved."

"You're gonna help us?" Sandra asked.

"I don't appreciate people throwing bounties around to push along their political agendas," Randall groused. "Just make sure none of 'em walk out alive. I don't need word gettin' around that I shot any NCR soldiers. I don't need that level of trouble hunting my ass down. But... as soon as the shooting is done, I'm coming back to my office - and if anyone asks, I've been here all day. Clear?"

Sandra nodded. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Randall replied. "I just don't want y'all to be outnumbered and get your damn heads blown off because of it. When the shooting stops, I'm leaving. After that, take your friend and lay low somewhere for a bit. You'll need to keep your heads down for a while if the NCR is riled at you."

Sandra felt a bombardment of numerous overwhelming feelings; her worry for Arcade was weighing on her horribly, and she was staring at Randall, wondering why he was so willing to help her.

"You can explain it all to me later," Randall told her, as if he'd heard her thoughts. "There's a campsite a little ways southeast of here, up the mountainside, sorta off towards the Mojave Outpost. Go there when it's all done. All right, kid?"

"Why are you trusting me?" Sandra asked.

"Well... I ain't gonna lie. Hearing you say that you own Vegas sounds like a crock'a horse shit," Randall answered. "But I know you're a courier. I've got all your work records now, got 'em from a mister Jonathan Nash in Primm. You're Courier Six - the same courier who's rumored to have been invited into the Lucky 38. I never liked nor hated the NCR... but the shit they're doing to you ain't right. If you've gotten involved in the politics of the Mojave, and if the NCR is attacking your friends to intimidate you, then I'd be willin' to lend you a helping hand... so long as you never mention my name in all this. It's not trust, kid. It's just good manners."

Sandra was about to reply, but she was interrupted by the sound of Niner stumbling backward and colliding with the ammunition shelf behind him, barely catching himself.

"He's useless to us now," Vulpes said, jabbing his thumb at Niner. "He'll get us killed if he joins the fight."

"Niner." Sandra approached the junkie. "Go get the bus and drive it up to Goodsprings. Lay low there for a little bit. Talk to Doc Mitchell. He'll let you borrow his spare bed for a couple days. Take Scar with you, too."

"Wha...?" Niner slurred. "You're tryinna get rid of me?"

"Just go," Sandra ordered. "We'll come get you when things cool down. You need to sober up."

Niner rubbed his eyes, walking in a zig-zag pattern out of the shack and wandering back toward Primm.

Randall pocketed some ammunition while Vulpes braced himself for an oncoming battle, and Sandra became distant, staring at the door in the moments after Niner left, feeling as if an anchor had dropped in the pit of her stomach. Arcade... he was her safety net, her guardian, the one who always had the right answer to every impossible situation. He was persistent and protective like Charon, but he was also compassionate and considerate like her father. She felt as if a crucial part of her had been snatched away, ripped out of her, leaving her soul wounded and her heart broken. It was just like before...

She'd never forget it, staring helplessly through the protective wall of the purifier in the Jefferson Memorial, watching as her father crumbled and collapsed against the glass, the radiation eating away at him... all because the Enclave showed up and held him hostage, because they snatched him away. It was the same as the aftermath of the battle, when Charon deactivated the purifier and caught the brunt of the resulting explosion, killing him in an instant. It felt the same way it did last time, like a storm was brewing, like a shadowy tyrannical force was conspiring against her and her loved ones would soon die because of it. Now, the government had snatched Arcade away too. What right did they have to assume authority over everyone's lives, to rip people away and dictate their fate?

"I'll kill them," Sandra murmured. "I'm gonna wipe the Enclave from the face of the planet all over again."

Vulpes blinked. "We're facing the Republic. Not the Enclave."

Sandra snapped back into reality. "Right, yeah... whatever. Let's go."

She, Vulpes, and Randall left the shack, heading toward the old police station with a pep in their step.

* * *

When the rangers arrived, a grisly, filthy raider busted through the double doors, drawing a pistol and scowling at the Republic soldiers.

The butch woman, who was in the lead and carrying Arcade over one shoulder, stared blankly at the nameless raider.

"Who the fuck are you?" the raider barked.

"I think you know the answer to that question," the butch woman replied coyly. "The badges, the uniform? Come on. Even a worthless street rat like you can't be _that_ stupid. And who are _you_ , worthless street rat?"

"I'm Cullen, the leader of the Jackals!" Cullen announced dramatically, as if he was declaring himself the son of God. "You know how many NCR fucks I've killed? You take one step closer, and you're next!"

The butch woman smiled strangely. "Easy, killer. No need to get hasty. We just need a place to stay for the night. We're collecting a bounty. Can't you tell?"

Cullen's eyes widened. "You're gonna be collecting your ass! Nobody fucks with the Jackals!"

Before Cullen could even raise his gun, the four rangers behind the butch woman opened fire, and Cullen fumbled to the ground, bleeding from several places and gurgling at the butch woman's feet.

The butch woman approached the entrance of the police station, kicking the dying Cullen aside and marching into the old building.

"He must've thought that we came for him," she remarked. "I suppose this Cullen fellow must have had a bounty on his head. He thought we'd waste our time on the likes of him? How presumptuous."

The four rangers planted themselves around the entrance as guards while the butch woman took Arcade to the back room, finding an empty jail cell occupied by a few dead mantises.

She grinned. "Perfect."

The butch woman slung Arcade off her shoulder, slamming him against the bars and jolting him awake. He gaped at her, taking a moment to absorb the thumping pain in his skull and the isolated, hopeless environment he found himself in.

"Morning sunshine," the butch woman sneered. "I was ordered to take you to headquarters... but knowing who you are, what you've done? I'm tempted to leave you tied up in this jail cell to rot, starving to death in a pile of dead mantis corpses."

Arcade gulped. "Y-you really haven't done your research, have you? I never enlisted in the Enclave-"

"I don't wanna hear your bullshit lies," the butch woman snapped, leaning a bit too close and baring her teeth like a hungry, feral wolf. "Everyone in your family was Enclave, and you miraculously have the scientific genius of an Enclave scientist. Do you really expect anyone to believe that you weren't part of it?"

Arcade made an acknowledging nod. "A-all right, I admit, that does look bad on my part. But honestly, I'm telling you the truth. I was never a soldier, or a scientist, or even an initiate. I just happened to grow up in a military family. It wasn't by choice."

"You can keep trying to bargain all you want," the butch woman glowered. "No one will ever believe you."

"For God's sake... I was a doctor for the NCR!" Arcade responded. "You can't think that I-"

WHAM.

The butch woman rammed her leg into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. She reared back and delivered two solid punches, numbing his cheek and busting his lip. He fell backward, landing in the jail cell, hogtied and unable to stand again.

Arcade lay on the cold floor, trying to ignore the pain and fighting the ropes bound around his arms and wrists, but to no avail.

"I haven't done anything," he rasped, his lungs tight with pain. "Trust me, you don't want to do this. You've no idea what you're bringing on yourself-"

The butch woman swung her leg, swiftly kicking Arcade's face, knocking his glasses across the room. She knelt over him, pulling an injector from her pocket and stabbing it into his neck.

 _"Ah..."_ Arcade breathed.

"This will shut you up for a while," she snarled. "It's my own special brand of med-x... three times as strong as the medicinal stuff. Makes a great tranquilizer for troublesome captives. Sometimes, people don't wake up from the deep sleep it brings."

Arcade tried to speak again, but his eyelids grew heavy, his body feeling like it weighed a ton. He drifted into a comatose state, motionless. The butch woman stood, slammed the jail cell shut, and walked off.

* * *

Sandra, Vulpes, and Randall approached the police station as stealthily as possible, paying no mind to Cullen's fresh corpse. Twilight fell, the sun setting on the horizon, and Sandra spoke.

"You two, position yourselves on each side of the door," she whispered, pointing to the double doors. "I'm gonna get their attention. When they run out, they'll be focused on me; that's when you both spring into action."

"Yeah... and what're you gonna do if you turn out not to be bulletproof?" Randall snarked. "You can't just stand there and wait for death, kid. That's not a plan. That's a death wish."

"But what am I-"

"Listen. We can grab their attention without anyone offering themselves up as a sacrificial lamb. Watch."

Randall stepped toward the window, raised his 44, and fired twice. Two earsplitting shots rang through the air, and the window shattered; the rangers inside became alarmed, and Randall snatched Sandra by the arm, yanking her to the corner of the building. The two of them waited for the rangers to come out, Vulpes hiding on the other side of the doorway.

Randall managed to refill his chamber when the doors busted open. The rangers flooded outside, their guns drawn, and at once, Sandra and Randall opened fire, both of them aiming for the heads. Three of the rangers fell, and the fourth spun around, spotting them and raising his rifle-

SMASH.

An explosion of blue light occurred, Vulpes smashing his displacer glove into the ranger's back, snapping his spine and knocking him to the ground.

The three of them stared at each other for a moment, gathering themselves.

"Y'see?" Randall said. "That wasn't so hard, was it, kid?"

Sandra gulped and nodded, still shaking. She wanted to stand in front of them, to look them in the eyes before activating a plasma grenade and blowing them to hell... but Randall's plan was much safer, much less reckless. She couldn't help it; she was furious, and she wanted to make them suffer.

"You need to calm down," Randall told her. "I told you... you rush into this with a hot head, and you're gonna end up deader than a hammer."

Sandra nodded again, turning to Vulpes. "Were there any more of them? Did we get all of them?"

"There was... one more," Vulpes said. "A woman with sunglasses. She was their leader."

"She's probably inside waiting on us," Randall figured. "Best be careful. Baby steps. Guns drawn..."

The three of them inched inside, Sandra and Randall with their guns held high, Vulpes with his displacer glove balled into an electric fist.

Sandra was the first to enter the back hallway; she'd visited this place before, but during her last visit, the building was simply abandoned. She remembered the simple layout of it; the hallway contained two bathrooms, and at the end was the cell room.

Sure enough, at the end of the hall, the butch woman stood in the doorway, holding an assault rifle and grinning nastily at them. Sandra was just able to see Arcade behind her, lying beaten and bound in the jail cell. Her heart rate spiked, her blood boiling, her skin hot to the touch.

"Fucking bitch," Sandra growled, a sparkle of insanity in her wicked glare. "Let him go. He didn't do anything."

"You must be Courier Six," the butch woman determined. "Which means... the little suited smartass really _is_ the frumentarius. Well... thank you for bringing my next bounty to me, courier."

"Fuck you," Sandra spat. "I'm gonna enjoy making you bleed, bitch."

"Oh... why the hostility?" the butch woman smirked, cocking her head questioningly. "I'm doing you a favor. You're getting chummy with some really nasty people. You know who he is, right?" She pointed to Vulpes. "He's a Legion spy. He-"

"I know," Sandra cut her off.

The butch woman gaped at her for a moment. "So... you're in league with the Legion, then. Well. I suppose Crocker is right to be concerned with your grab for power."

"The Legion is shit, just like your worthless Republic," Sandra seethed in a demonic voice she hadn't used since the battle for Project Purity. "And you're all gonna die at my hand."

"Careful what you say," the butch woman said, turning and pointing her gun at Arcade. "I could put a round in his head right now. I'd be doing you a favor, too."

"If you hurt him, I swear to God-"

"You'll do what? Retaliate? Shoot me? Go right ahead. Your doctor friend will die before you have the chance to react. There's nothing you can do, courier."

"I beg to differ." Sandra revealed a sick smile, her eyes deadening. "I brought down an entire government once before. I'm not afraid to do it again."

"I find that hard to believe, even for someone with your reputation," the butch woman dismissed.

"Ever heard of the Enclave?" Sandra grinned wickedly. "They were a real problem out east. They killed my father and my best friend. So... guess what I did? I nuked them into oblivion. I killed the president, and the Enclave fell apart completely. That's what happens when you cross me... and that was before I ever had Las Vegas under my thumb, before I ever had an army of death squad robots at my disposal. All I had back then was a bag of drugs and a fat man. But now? I could _annihilate_ you. And I _will_."

The butch woman stared at her quietly for several seconds. "So... you despise all forms of authority, I take it."

"Pretty much," Sandra agreed. "Your symbol is different, but you're all the same."

"I wouldn't go that far," the butch woman argued. "The NCR never kidnapped civilians and forced them to take part in torturous science experiments. The NCR didn't lend a hand in the Great War, resulting in a global nuclear holocaust. The NCR didn't kill your father and your friend. In fact..."

The butch woman stepped aside, nodding toward Arcade. "He's the one you should be mad at. Not us."

Randall and Vulpes traded glimpses.

Sandra narrowed her eyes. "What're you talking about?"

"You really do have a habit of picking out horrible friends," the butch woman said. "A Legion spy... and an Enclave remnant."

Sandra stared blankly at the ranger woman. What was she implying? That Arcade was part of the Enclave?

"His entire family had bounties on their heads after the Enclave disbanded," the butch woman informed. "You hate authority? You hate tyranny? You hate the big bad government, courier? Then _he's_ the one you should be pointing your gun at, not me. The crimes of the Enclave are staggering compared to any flaws of the New California Republic, and you'd be a fool to argue otherwise. The Enclave you hate so passionately... your little friend here is _part_ of it."

Sandra fell silent, her eyes drifting from the butch woman to the semi-conscious Arcade lying on the dirty jail cell's floor. She stared at him for a moment, her heart aching, and released a breath.

"I don't care," Sandra said flatly, firing Charon's shotgun.

The gunshot rattled everyone's eardrums; the butch woman's head exploded in a sickening burst of crimson and fragments of bone, her body hitting the floor, blood splattering across the walls of the hallway.

There was a long silence following the final ranger's death.

Sandra lowered her gun, her face deadpan, her eyes locked on Arcade. Even though the rangers were dead, she didn't feel better; seeing the blood on Arcade's mouth, the bruises on his face... it infuriated her.

"Kid," Randall said. "You okay?"

Sandra took in a slow, trembling breath. "Y... yeah. You can go, Randall. Everything's taken care of now."

Randall hesitated for a moment, holstering his revolver and marching out of the police station.

"Vulpes," Sandra mumbled, her eyes still lost in Arcade. "The NCR wouldn't look for you in Goodsprings."

Vulpes squinted at her from behind. "Are you suggesting that we separate?"

"Legionaries never pop up in Goodsprings," Sandra told him. "They won't look for you there. I'll make my way up there as soon as I can, and we'll all head back to Vegas from there. I just... need to be alone right now."

Vulpes hesitated. "And where do you plan to go?"

Sandra slowly turned, and the look on her face almost reminded Vulpes of Caesar.

"Don't pretend to care about me, Vulpes," she said darkly. "Just go. I'll come by to get you soon."

Vulpes gave her a strange look. After a moment of thought, he turned and left the police station, leaving Sandra alone, standing over a headless corpse and frowning at her injured friend.

This was the beginning, she knew, drawing closer and kneeling beside Arcade. This was just how it started last time; as many battles as they'd fought and as many times they'd faced danger, they always came out of it all right. But not this time; this was the same as before, with war around the corner and with tensions brewing all around. Sandra knew this feeling, this all-consuming sensation of dread and angst. It was a sign of the hardships ahead, of the war they'd face - and just like last time, her loved ones would be hurt or killed in the process. It was happening all over again.

Sandra gently placed her hand on Arcade's face, a sense of terrible empathy sweeping over her. He looked to be in pain, and he couldn't seem to keep his eyes fully open. She thought of Charon, and suddenly, it became twice as painful to look at Arcade; she wondered who, at the brink of the oncoming war, she would lose this time around. It was only a matter of time before the people around her started dying off again, and it nearly happened to Arcade today, on such a simple day, a day of relaxation and peace. It was so much easier, so much simpler, when she took that simple courier job and decided not to tie herself down to friends, or families, or factions. How in the hell did she get wrapped up in the gambling games of politics and militaries all over again?

"San..." Arcade breathed faintly.

"It's okay," Sandra said softly, her eyes watering. "Everything's okay now."

Her heart ached at saying this. Despite her longing to comfort Arcade, she didn't believe what she said at all. Everything was _far_ from okay, and she was certain that it would only get worse from here on, just like last time.

War never changes, after all.


	8. The Brilliance of Mr Burke

Sandra set him upright, letting him lay on her collar as she wrapped her arms around him, untying all the ropes around his arms and wrists. He didn't speak, and Sandra guessed that he had either been drugged or was suffering from a rather serious concussion.

After the ropes were removed, Sandra pocketed Arcade's glasses, then kicked the butch woman's corpse away from the hall, clearing a path. She knelt, placed Arcade on her back, slid her arms under his legs, and lifted him off the ground. He was heavier than she expected, and as she lumbered out of the police station carrying him, she almost regretted telling Vulpes and Randall to leave her; it would've been much easier to carry Arcade if they were here to help.

Nevertheless, Sandra meandered into the night, heading southeast as Randall had advised, toward the abandoned scorpion camp on the mountainside. She'd visited it once before, when she and her friends joined Bradley on his hunt for his father's inheritance. But Bradley died before he could complete the journey...

Halfway up the vast, sandy landscape, Sandra's legs were throbbing like mad, Arcade laying mostly unconscious over her back, his arms hanging over her shoulders. It became harder and harder to support his weight, but still, she managed, hoofing it up the sandy slopes until she finally reached the empty camp. There was a pile of dark, ashy sticks in the middle of the small clearing, and a few scorpion carcasses were lying a short distance away from the camp. Sandra tried to lug Arcade to the tent, but she couldn't carry him any longer. Her knee buckled, and she fell to the ground, the doctor sprawled over top of her.

For a moment, she simply laid there, her face pressed into the sand, considering falling asleep like this. It was oddly comfortable, having Arcade as a blanket, and she was beyond exhausted. The last thing she wanted to do was move.

After a while, however, Sandra slowly turned over, laying on her back, though Arcade was still laying on her, his head resting on her chest. She stared up at the night sky, the chilly air sending goosebumps up and down her body. She draped an arm over Arcade, holding him and contemplating on everything that had happened.

She remembered one night in the Capital Wasteland, when she, Charon, and Bryan sought shelter inside of an overturned water tower. It was stormy that night, stormy and cold, and she remembered cuddling up to Charon and sharing his warmth. It was one of the most comfortable moments of her life, and she felt the same way now, her heart beating softly against Arcade's face.

She wasn't sure how much time passed, and part of her didn't care. The two of them were alone, hidden in an isolated campsite, where the NCR would be unlikely to discover them. They were both alive, and Sandra had gotten Arcade away from his abductors; despite her persistent worries of the future, at the very least, everything was all right for now.

"S..." Arcade moaned. "Sandr..."

"I'm here," Sandra replied, holding him tighter. "What happened to you? Did you get hit in the head?"

"Med-x... overdose," Arcade exhaled. "I need... I need... addictol... and a stim... from my..."

"Overdose?" Sandra's heart skipped. "Shit... they sedated you?"

"My bag..." Arcade whispered, his hand twitching beside the satchel on his hip. "Addictol will... soften the effects... with a stim..."

"Oh, okay. Hang on."

Sandra reached down, groping around inside of Arcade's bag until she found a red injector of addictol and a stimpack, leaving some of his other supplies scattered in the sand beside them. She injected the addictol first, pressing the needle into his neck, then the stimpack seconds later.

"Thank you..." Arcade breathed.

Sandra's stomach tightened. He sounded awful, and it pained her.

"You didn't think we'd let them take you, did you?" Sandra smiled up at the sky again. "You should know better."

Arcade let out a breathless laugh.

They were quiet for a moment.

"Arcade," Sandra said thoughtfully. "What was it like?"

"Hmn...?" Arcade groaned.

"Growing up around the Enclave," she clarified. "What was it like?"

At hearing this, Arcade fell silent for several minutes.

"I'm sorry," he uttered. "I... tried to tell you... but I could never find the right time... I just..."

He paused, regaining a bit of mobility and trying to push himself upright, though he wasn't quite able to crawl off of her just yet, his limbs feeling sluggish as if they were made of jelly.

"You don't have to move," Sandra said. "Stay like this. This is cozy. Besides, it's freezing out here."

Arcade rolled his neck, gazing up at her. "Did you know?"

"Did I know what?"

"Did you know... about my family... before you came after me...?"

"No. The NCR woman told me when I got there."

"I see..."

Sandra lifted her head, giving him an examining look. "Why do you ask?"

Arcade hesitated, staring tiredly at the sandy hillside to the left of them. "I wondered... I mean, part of me expected you to leave me if you found out. I thought you might just... leave me at the NCR's mercy..."

"Jesus, Arcade," Sandra scoffed. "Do you really think I care?"

"After what the Enclave did to you? Of course you care," Arcade replied, his voice gaining strength. "After everything they put you through... how could I tell you? How could I tell you that I was..."

"I don't care," Sandra said, tightening her one-armed embrace on him. "I really don't care, Arcade."

Arcade released a cloud of breath. "I thought you'd be furious..."

"Arcade, we have a Legion spy traveling with us," Sandra laughed. "Vulpes is the kind of guy who nobody would feel guilty about killing. He's done awful things. But I was still willing to give him a chance. If I'm willing to do that for one of the wickedest guys in the Legion... what makes you think I wouldn't do the same for you? Especially considering that you didn't even do anything wrong. Your family was Enclave, and you were born into it... so what? It's not a big deal. You can't control what you're born into. It's not like you're directly responsible for my father dying, or Charon dying. My issues with the Enclave have literally nothing to do with you... so stop worrying."

Arcade felt an immense rush of relief. Sandra always seemed livid, almost psychotic whenever she talked about the Enclave; her views on them were skewed and perverted by her horrible experiences, and it usually drove her to a point of irrational demonization. He thought for sure that she'd cast him aside when she found out about his past; he didn't expect her to dismiss it so casually, though he was thankful that she did.

"Besides... I need you," Sandra added. "I can't run Vegas by myself. I have no idea how. You'd know how to run a society a lot better than I would... plus, you're my moral compass. Vulpes keeps me on my toes, but you keep me from losing myself again. You're just..."

Her cheeks faded pink, feeling a tinge of embarrassment. She'd never told him any of this before.

"You think you're just some boring, nameless doctor... but you're way more important than you think you are. Especially to me. You're the only reason I started caring again."

After the words escaped her, she continued staring into the sky, refusing to meet his eyes again and feeling oddly vulnerable. He was silent for a moment, and Sandra wondered what he was thinking, worrying that she'd said something strange or off-putting.

But in truth, Arcade simply didn't know what to say. No one had ever placed such importance on him before, and he didn't know how to take it, how to respond. He felt touched, but he also felt lost, not knowing what to say or do.

"I... don't know what to say," he muttered. "I..."

"You don't have to say anything. Just lay here," Sandra said, feeling as if she never wanted to let go of him.

For all she knew, this was the last hug they'd ever have. If this war turned out anything like the last one, she might end up losing her best friend all over again.

* * *

"It's working like a charm, Burke."

Raul strolled into the Lucky 38, stretching and groaning as his old bones crackled and popped. Burke, who was sitting on one of the small dividers along the walkway to the elevator, looked up from his magazine.

"What's working?" he asked.

"Your idea of keeping a record on criminal activity," Raul told him. "The securitrons have facial-recognition tech wired into them. They remember everyone who's acted out, and they throw out the criminals whenever they show up. The robbery attempts have dwindled drastically."

"Good," Mr. Burke smiled. "What of the NCR?"

Raul's smile faded. "Not talking to us. We've made every attempt to talk to Crocker, but the guy's ignoring us. He knows that we're gonna try to make him back off, I guess."

"Well, we can't allow him to keep on this path." Mr. Burke frowned. "If there's a bounty out on Sandra and her friends, we're losing time. The NCR might've already found them, for all we know."

"Yeah..." Raul moaned tiredly, rubbing his eyes. "Fuck. I'm too old for this shit..."

"Well... I have worked out another solution," Mr. Burke informed. "Albeit... it's a last-resort sort of solution, a course of action we should only take if all our attempts at diplomacy fall through."

"Diplomacy ain't working... so, let me hear it," Raul decided.

"Has it occurred to you that you have the power to drive the NCR out by force? Out of the strip, at least," Mr. Burke began. "You told me that your robots have a new operating system now, which makes them nearly unstoppable. You've also told me that Mr. House is dead, which leaves you and Sandra in charge of everything. So, essentially, the Republic is trying to assassinate the current ruler of the community. Learning of this, you'd be justified in retaliating some way, would you not?"

"Well... we could drive the NCR out of Vegas, but not the entire Mojave," Raul replied. "Not yet, at least. There are military camps all over the Mojave. If we drove the NCR out of here, they'd come back threefold."

"Precisely why I sent Gob back to Hidden Valley," Mr. Burke said. "He's going to rally some numbers for us. Your robots and your citizens can put up a fight, but you'll need more backup than that if the NCR comes back. I instructed Gob to send Sarah Lyons a message; the Lyons' Pride was drummed out of total power back east, but they still have some heavy influence with the eastern Brotherhood, and so does Sarah. If she can return to the Capital and gather everyone who's willing to join her, we'll be helping to build the Brotherhood, and the Brotherhood would be an essential weapon in our arsenal against the Republic and the Legion."

"You're sending her back to DC? That far away?"

"Not to worry. She has her own vertibird. And if she can gather some Brotherhood members from the east, she'll bring a whole fleet of vertibirds back with her. The travel across the country is an easier task for her than most. It's avoiding Elder Maxson that will prove to be difficult for her."

"Elder Maxson?"

"He took over the Brotherhood and declared her a traitor. He tried to have her killed shortly before we left DC, simply because she warned the town of Megaton of an oncoming military invasion."

"Shit."

"Yes. There's really no hope for DC, but here? Here, we could make a difference. We truly _could_ build up another Brotherhood, one to rival Elder Maxson's. Perhaps in time, the western Brotherhood would bring Elder Maxson's tyrannical regime to its knees... but perhaps I'm being optimistic..."

"How does building the Brotherhood help us?"

"Because Sarah is involved with the western Brotherhood now... and as long as she is, we have an opening to set up an alliance with them. Not to mention, both the NCR and the Legion would attack the Brotherhood if given the chance. If they want to live in the Mojave, they'll have to fight for it, just like us. Like I said... they'll become a weapon in our arsenal in this war. So, if the NCR _does_ come back after their banishment, we'll have more forces on our side. See what I'm saying?"

Raul nodded. "It's a long shot, though..."

"It will all come together, trust me," Mr. Burke assured.

"The NCR has a station here on the strip... an embassy," Raul said. "They have a train here too, which leads directly to Camp McCarran. You'd have to stop the monorail somehow and take over the entire embassy. It wouldn't be easy."

"They aren't allowed to resist us here," Mr. Burke smirked. "You forget... out in the wasteland, anything goes. But here? Mr. House's forces have been in charge for two hundred years. If the NCR fought us, it would be considered an invasion, and they know that. That's why they've been trying to integrate with the strip the slow way - because doing it by force would warrant their abolishment. This is one of the few places that held onto its own sense of order after the war. We shouldn't let the NCR forget that. They insist that they bring much-needed order to places lacking it - but their order isn't needed here. It never has been."

"All right... but I don't know if Sandra and the others would be on board," Raul told him. "Pushing the entire NCR out of the strip? That's a big move to make, and she's not here, so I can't get her input on this."

"I think circumstances have escalated enough for you to make the decision," Mr. Burke figured. "They're targeting her, as well as her friends. They've officially declared themselves a threat to you all; you're simply taking action against the threat. Sandra's absence has left you in charge, which means, you and whoever else runs the 38 are the Vegas Congress to coincide with Sandra's presidency."

Raul stared blankly at him.

"Legality is all the NCR understand," Mr. Burke explained. "If we declare ourselves the Congress of Vegas, we will have legal authority over everything and everyone here. We could even say that Mr. House elected us to be his congress before he died from an illness or something. There'd be no one who could disprove such a claim. And - upon learning of the NCR's conspiracy to target our president and two congress members - we decided to take action against an invading military. The public would support us if they knew all the facts."

"Yeah, they probably would," Raul agreed. "The NCR and the locals don't exactly get along..."

"Good. We'll use that." Mr. Burke clasped his hands together, intertwining his fingers, a familiar wicked gleam in his eyes. "Oh... it feels great to get back in the swing of things. We'll need the securitrons to make this work."

"What... right now?"

"Why not?"

Raul sighed. He didn't want to start a conflict inside of the strip, but the NCR was targeting them now; they didn't have many options left. If they left the NCR alone, the Republic would take greater strides to eliminate the Courier Army from their position of power. Not to mention, Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes were in danger of being hunted by NCR soldiers and bounty hunters. Something needed to be done.

"Okay," Raul agreed, pointing to the two securitrons beside the elevator. "Talk to them."

Mr. Burke cocked his head at the robots, strolling toward them and examining them curiously. "Em... hello, robots."

"Howdy, partner," Victor said.

"Salutations, sir!" Yes Man beamed.

Mr. Burke glimpsed between them. "Do either of you have any protocols for... say... certain drastic scenarios?"

"Talk to him, partner." Victor waved toward Yes Man. "Ol' Smiley is the one who's integrated with House's mainframe."

"Sure!" Yes Man said. "Mr. House had plenty of plans for bad situations, and Dr. Gannon programmed some protocols as well!"

"Well, let's say that the NCR has deemed itself a threat to the security of Independent Vegas, and the Republic needed to be removed from the city," Mr. Burke proposed. "Do you have a protocol for that?"

Yes Man began jerking and twitching, his screen flashing red. When he spoke again, his voice was thick and distorted. **"Searching... searching... file found. Protocol 21: Operation Pest Control. In the event that the NCR's threat level rises beyond level orange, They will be alerted by the com system and escorted away. Power to the monorail will be shut down indefinitely, and citizens of the NCR will no longer be welcome on the strip or Freemont. Do you wish to initiate Protocol 21: Operation Pest Control?"**

"Erm... yes," Mr. Burke answered. "Initiate."

 **"Protocol 21: Operation Pest Control initiated. For peaceful initiation, reply 'Peaceful.' For forceful initiation, reply 'Forceful.'"**

"Um... let's try 'Peaceful' first," Mr. Burke decided. "If that doesn't work, we'll try the other option. All right?"

 **"You have chosen Protocol 21: Operation Pest Control, Version: Peaceful. If you wish to change your initiation process during the operation, speak with any securitron with override code '2077 Vegas Is Mine.' If the operation does not go as you please, please report issues and complaints to your nearest RobCo manufacturer. Have a nice day."**

Then, Yes Man jolted, his wide back smashing against the wall. His screen went back to its normal whiteish color.

"Whoa," Yes Man said, placing one of his clamp-like hands on his screen. "That gave me a headache."

"Now what?" Mr. Burke asked.

"Well, since you chose the peaceful option, you'll have to put out an announcement for the NCR," Yes Man told him, tapping the bottom of his screen. "My microphone is right here. You'll have to inform them that they need to leave, and we're coming to escort them out. They'll have a chance to go peacefully before any fighting happens. Just speak into the microphone, and all of Vegas will be able to hear you."

Mr. Burke hesitated. He was good at pulling strings and manipulating people, but talking to them? He was in charge of Megaton for years, yet he rarely talked to the citizens. He understood people's motives, how their minds worked... but he wasn't particularly good at speaking publicly without coming off as a sleazy politician.

Still, he took in a breath, strung together a speech in his head, and spoke into Yes Man's microphone. When he began, Raul was able to hear a loud echo of Mr. Burke's words from outside, broadcasting from every securitron on the strip.

"Greetings, citizens of Las Vegas and Freemont," Mr. Burke started. "I... am Mister Burke. I'm one of many members of the Vegas Congress, elected by Mr. House himself shortly before his passing. It's come to my attention that Sandra - or, as you may know her, Courier Six, Mr. House's heir - has recently been targeted by the New California Republic, as well as two other members of our congress. We've been very tolerant of all comers of Vegas, whether they're military or citizens... and Sandra has put a lot of work into improving Freeside, opening the gates to the strip and removing the walls between the upper and lower classes, bringing food and shelter to hundreds, and the list goes on. We hold no grudge against the NCR... but we cannot tolerate action taken against us when we've only tried to bring peace to every citizen of Vegas. Therefore, I formally request that all NCR citizens leave New Vegas, and I'm sorry to say that you're no longer welcome in Vegas or Freeside. Your nearest securitron will see you to the Freeside gates. Please... do comply peacefully. Those who don't will be removed by force for the safety of New Vegas. Thank you for your time, my friends... and have a wonderful time at the slots tonight."

Mr. Burke ended the broadcast with a heavy sigh. He looked to Raul, who still had a doubtful look strewn across his ghoulish face.

"The power to the monorail will be shut down automatically, and the securitrons should be pushing the NCR out now," Mr. Burke said. "The only thing I'm concerned about is the embassy. There's a heavy concentration of soldiers there, and Ambassador Crocker is there as well."

Raul flipped out his revolver. "Well... this is when we get a little old school. Politics won't solve that problem. Let's go."

With their guns raised, they both led Yes Man and Victor out of the casino, marching down the strip toward the embassy. Securitrons were lining up all of the NCR soldiers on each side of the street, most of whom looked rather confused. Many of the drunken gamblers nearby were cheering things like "Yeah, it's about damn time!" or "Finally! Get those bastards out of here!"

Mr. Burke ordered a few more securitrons to follow them, just for safety. They marched into the embassy with a trail of securitrons behind them, both Yes Man and Victor flashing red screens again, their shoulder-mounted missiles ready to fire if necessary. The soldiers gave them offended and enraged glares, but none of them took action.

Raul and Mr. Burke strolled into the embassy like they owned the place, passing the front desk and wandering the halls, ignoring the looks they were getting from the NCR soldiers. At the back of the building, they found Ambassador Crocker's office; his desk was on the other side, and behind him was a large, elegant painting of President Kimball. Boone was standing beside him, holding his rifle.

Crocker looked up from his terminal, trying to mask a look of shock. Boone simply scowled at them.

Raul and Mr. Burke strode forward, their securitrons close behind.

"I'm afraid we can't welcome your kind here any longer," Mr. Burke said smoothly. "Maybe we'll make another hotel out of this building... or perhaps a spa. I love a good spa."

"You have a lot of nerve to walk in here with your damn toy soldiers," Crocker snarled. "Do you have any idea what kind of war you're starting?"

"No, my good man... _you_ started the war when you decided to target my allies with your trivial little bounties," Mr. Burke replied, his coy smirk vanishing. "We were elected by the sole owner of New Vegas, and you taking strides to target my people ends now. Vegas is not yours. It never was. Now, please... get out of _my_ office."

* * *

"He'd always play war games with me... up until I was nine. That's when the NCR came, and our family had to scatter. Years passed of drifting, not really belonging anywhere... and, well, here I am."

Arcade finished talking about his childhood, then released a cloud of breath. He was laying on his back now, still sluggish from the med-x, his head resting on one of Sandra's outstretched arms. The two of them hadn't moved from their spot in the sand, gazing up at the sky and trading conversation.

Sandra wasn't sure how to respond to the story. The way he talked, it almost sounded like what she herself went through; here in the west, the Enclave wasn't the pinnacle of militaristic force and patriotism as they were back east. No, that role rested with the NCR; here in the west, the NCR was the beacon of order and hope while the Enclave were persecuted and hunted like terrorists. Arcade lost his father to the NCR, just as Sandra lost hers to the Enclave. It seemed no one was safe, no family, no society. If one faction decides to wage war on another, everyone involved gets caught in the crossfire of the conflict. It was a harsh truth that both of them had experienced up close and personally.

"Sandra," Arcade said, turning his head and observing her. "What's your next move?"

"What?" Sandra asked.

"Well... if the NCR is out to get us, how are we supposed to keep going about our business?" Arcade clarified. "The NCR is all over the Mojave. We aren't safe just wandering around and living our lives anymore."

Sandra sighed. "I don't really know. Niner and Vulpes are waiting for us in Goodsprings. I figured... after we joined up with them, we'd head back to Vegas and make a plan from there."

"Vegas is crawling with NCR," Arcade replied. "The embassy, the monorail, the squads in Freeside... then there's Camp McCarran and the Crimson Caravan right on Freeside's outskirts. I don't think we'll be safe in Vegas... not right now, at least."

Sandra thought long and hard about this. Arcade expected her to drum up a reckless plan, a way to defeat the NCR and drive them off for good, but what she said next surprised him.

"Maybe we should just leave," she uttered. "It was fun for a while, just delivering packages, having adventures... but we got wrapped up in a bunch of big messes, and I think we might die if we keep on like this. Maybe we should just get out of the Mojave while we have the chance."

Arcade's green eyes sparkled with a glint of shock. "You're serious..."

"I'm sorry." Sandra's head slumped over, her eyes meeting his. "I know you wanted to help this place, and so did I, but... we've done so much already. We've basically rebuilt Freeside from the ground up. We killed Caesar, we got Joshua and his tribes a new home, we saved the Khans from being screwed over by the Legion... so... I think we've done enough to call it a day. Besides... as long as the NCR is here, you're never gonna be completely safe, and neither is Vulpes. It would be nice to start over again... and this time, I wouldn't have to do it alone."

"Yes, but... Mr. House is gone," Arcade reminded her. "If we leave, who's gonna run Vegas?"

"Yes Man and Raul are still there," Sandra said. "Plus, Niner wouldn't leave the Mojave even if I wanted him to. He loves Vegas too much. Niner could help run Vegas too. We never really 'ran' Vegas, anyway. All we did was take over a big shiny tower. Vegas will keep bustling whether we're there or not."

"I... Sandra, what you're saying makes sense, logically... but it's not like you," Arcade told her. "I didn't think you'd leave everything you gained in the Mojave. I'm not implying that you're a coward - believe me, I've thought about leaving this place plenty of times - but it just seems a bit out of character for you."

Sandra took on a grim expression, frowning at the stars.

"I dove in headstrong last time," she said gravely. "It felt amazing... but it was really, _really_ wrong. I took on the entire Enclave. I nuked a good bunch of them, and shot the shit out of the rest. I took an insane amount of drugs to get through that fight, and I lost myself. And because of that, Charon had to..."

She trailed off, her stomach turning.

"He had to think for me, because I wasn't thinking for myself," she said. "He had to pick me up when I let myself fall. And he died because of that. You, Arcade... you do the same thing. You're always looking out for me because I don't think to look after myself half the time. This is all just... way too familiar. I don't want it to happen all over again... and I don't trust myself to handle a war. Not after last time..."

"Sandra-"

"No, I can't let this happen again. I should've walked away last time. The Brotherhood and the civilians - they had plenty of manpower. They could've won Project Purity without me. I didn't have to jump in, but I did it anyway, and then Charon died. No... I should've walked away. Everyone would be alive if I just walked away. Charon tried to tell me... he said going after the GECK was a death wish... but I just..."

"Sandra-"

"Not again. We're walking away from this crap before everyone gets killed. I'm not gonna die in this senseless war. None of us are-"

 _"Sandra!"_

Sandra stopped and stared at him.

"I... I'm all for it," Arcade decided, which was the last thing Sandra expected of him. "Whatever you want to do... let's do it. Let's leave the Mojave.


	9. Naviculam Trinus

The bus sat on the side of the road of Goodsprings, the same place they always parked it when they revisited the town. Niner was inside drinking and mouthing songs from the jukebox alongside Sunny Smiles, and Vulpes was sitting outside of the bus, arms crossed, face pensive.

The recent developments troubled him more and more. Not only was the Legion after him, but now, the NCR was aware of his presence as well. The Mojave was once a new land to him, a place of conquest where he worked as a spy under everyone's radar - now, his own brothers were out to kill him, and everyone he once so successfully evaded was now on his trail with a bloodlust. The Mojave was beginning to feel more like a trap than a new adventure.

When five in the evening came around, Sandra and Arcade finally arrived to Goodsprings as planned. Arcade was still woozy, but for the most part, he was no worse for wear.

"Hey," Sandra said, stopping in front of Vulpes. "Where's Niner?"

Vulpes shrugged. "Couldn't care less."

Sandra stared at him. Normally, she'd have something snide to say in response to Vulpes's sarcasm, but right now, she had something else on her mind; first and foremost, she wanted to find Niner and give him a good talking-to.

Just in time, Niner stumbled out of the saloon with Sunny, both of them laughing. Hearing his laughter made Sandra feel a pinch of anger.

Sunny waved him off and walked toward her house, and Niner grinned, spotting Sandra and Arcade.

"He-hey!" he exclaimed, strolling up to them. "What's happen-"

WHAM.

Sandra's knuckles bashed into his cheek, making him spin a 180 and fall to the dirt.

Niner blinked several times, staring up at her with a bizarre look. "What the hell was that-"

"You fucking idiot!" Sandra screamed, shocking all of them. "I needed you yesterday! Arcade got kidnapped, and we had to go fight rangers by ourselves! I really needed your help!"

Niner became bewildered. "But you told me to leave..."

"Yeah, because you were completely smashed," Sandra snarled. "You were useless. You would've gotten us killed if you came with us. I needed you. I told you to cut down on the chems, and you're just getting worse."

Niner gaped wordlessly at her.

"I'm sick of this," Sandra went on. "I quit for a reason, and I asked you to quit too, or at least cut down on it. You're constantly drinking and getting high, and it's putting us at risk."

"All right, Six, I'm sorry..."

"No, don't apologize. You've apologized before, and you didn't mean it. I don't wanna hear it anymore."

"Six, I jus-"

"Niner, go back to Vegas. You're fine. You don't have a bounty on your head. But we can't go with you. The NCR is after us, and the strip is full of NCR soldiers."

"What?"

"Just go."

"Wait, Six, what're you on about? I thought we were all going back to Vegas."

"We're not. The three of us have to get out of dodge, but you're free. Nobody's hunting you. You can just go back to Vegas and live the high life, just like you always wanted."

Niner looked like a wounded dog, gazing up at her with an expression of both frustration and hurt.

"You don't want me with you," Niner synopsized. "You wanna lay low, and you wanna go without me."

"I..." Sandra hesitated, sighing and frowning at her feet. "I don't wanna watch you die. But that's what's gonna happen if we stay together, and if you keep doing drugs. If you're gonna keep doing chems, just... don't make me watch you wither away. I don't need to see any more friends die."

Niner fell silent, not knowing how to respond.

"All right, let's put a pause on the dramatics," Vulpes said, reaching his feet. "Where, exactly, are we going? And why have you elected me to go along with this little road trip without asking?"

"Stay here and die if you want," Sandra said dismissively. "The NCR and the Legion are both out for blood. I just figured it would make sense for us to stay off their radar for a while."

Vulpes was quiet, trying to think of an argument and drawing a blank.

Sandra gulped. In truth, she didn't just plan to leave the Mojave for a while; she planned to leave it altogether, so she, Arcade, and Vulpes might start fresh somewhere else. Things in the Mojave were getting out of hand, and there was no stopping the oncoming bloodbath. The only way to avoid history repeating itself was to get out of dodge beforehand.

"We talked it over last night," Arcade informed. "We decided the best course of action would be to head to the Mojave Outpost and follow the long 15. It's the quickest and closest way out of the Mojave."

"And it's also a breeding ground for Republic soldiers," Vulpes retorted. "The outpost belongs to the NCR, have you forgotten?"

"No, but I know most of those people personally," Sandra told him. "Ranger Jackson, Ghost, Cass... they're all friends of mine. I don't think we have to worry about getting shot so long as we just keep our heads down and walk through the gates. It'll be all right."

"Hang on..." Niner pleaded. "Ya' can't just leave, not without me. Why're you running off? Why're you...?"

"Because the three of us are in danger, but you're not," Sandra told him. "Look... I'm sorry I hit you. But we really need to disappear for a while, and you can do more here."

"How? What, you gonna leave me with Raul again? Just sittin' in Vegas twiddling my thumbs until you get back? I don't got any business sense, Six. I can't help him run Vegas."

"You don't have to. You're his muscle."

"But Six..."

"Niner." Sandra marched forward, giving him a sad smile. "I don't wanna watch you kill yourself. If you wanna keep doing the chems, it's your choice... but I can't risk all of us just because of a choice you make. Arcade could've died yesterday."

"How was I supposed to know that would happen? We were just taking a day off. I thought it was the right time for a cocktail."

"Well, it wasn't."

Niner stared at her, his face darkening. "You're really gonna leave..."

Sandra pulled him into a hug, and her heart gave a pained thump against his bulletproof vest. She meant everything she said; she couldn't watch him die, and it was better to distance herself from him if he planned to poison himself to death. Still, he was the first friend she made in the Mojave, the first companion she'd had in years before meeting Arcade or anyone else. It was growing more and more difficult to say goodbye.

"I'm sorry," Sandra said, forcing down the urge to cry. "I just can't..."

Niner sighed.

"Take the bus," she added. "You can travel anywhere you want, and you'll always have a place to stay in Vegas. Plus, you can look after Scar for me, so you won't be alone. You're set for life. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yeah, but it would've been nice to have some mates, not just going it solo all the time," Niner uttered. "But yeah... I get'cha, Six. I get it. It's fine..."

Sandra wanted to leave, to get to the outpost and make her exit before she lost the nerve. Looking at Niner was making her waver, but she couldn't let herself stay in the Mojave. It was far too dangerous here now.

The four of them stocked up on supplies and ammunition before leaving Goodsprings. Niner drove away by himself, and Sandra watched the bus until it was out of sight before heading for the Mojave Outpost, ready to leave New Vegas behind.

* * *

"I think you did the right thing."

As the four of them trekked up the hill toward the two giant statues, Arcade matched Sandra's pace, talking to her for the first time in hours. The walk to the outpost was silent until now.

"I know it's difficult, but some people just don't want help," Arcade told her. "Niner's a fantastic friend, but he just doesn't care about himself. After a certain point, well... you have to draw the line somewhere."

"You don't have to tell me that..." Sandra sighed. "Believe me, I know."

Arcade glimpsed over his shoulder, seeing Vulpes walking a little ways behind them.

"I'm surprised you're keeping him with us," the doctor whispered. "You could've left him behind too, you know."

"He's got a bounty on his head," Sandra replied. "He'll die if we leave him here."

"Sandra, you don't owe him anything," Arcade stated. "You know he's only with us for his own survival. If he had the chance to rejoin the Legion, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He doesn't have any loyalty to us."

"How do you know?"

"Because..." Arcade let out a sigh. "He's a monster."

"Yeah, well, he's useful to us."

"How so?"

"Out of the three of us, he's the best survivalist. The Legion have no real medical expertise, and they grow up in bare-bones living conditions. If we end up in a bad spot, we'll need him."

"I suppose..."

When they reached the top of the hill, Arcade stopped, staring over the sunset above Las Vegas, the tower shining in the distance beneath the evening stars.

"This is the last time we'll watch the sunset over Vegas," Arcade murmured. "I can't believe all we've done here... and we're leaving it all behind."

"It's for the best," Sandra told him. "I've left homes behind before. Sometimes, it's the best way to survive."

"You don't have to tell me," Arcade exhaled. "We were going to do _so_ much here..."

"We've done a lot already," Sandra said. "We've done our part. We can't keep dreaming about making a utopia out of this place. We've already helped plenty. Let's just get out while we're ahead."

"We were doing great work for Randall," Arcade continued. "He started treating you like his own little protege. And we're leaving Joshua in Nipton with no backup..."

"Arcade, he _has_ backup," Sandra argued. "Vegas will keep running whether we're here or not. Everything will play out by itself. We have to go. Do you wanna get kidnapped again? You think you're lucky enough to survive a gang of NCR rangers twice?"

"I know, I know..." Arcade mumbled. "It's just a shame that we can't see this through."

Sandra didn't want to talk about this anymore; she wanted to get gone before she lost the initiative. She led Arcade and Vulpes into the Mojave Outpost, not meeting eyes with any of the NCR soldiers. As night began to fall, most of the soldiers were in the saloon or in bed, but a few of them were still lingering outside. Sandra walked past, hoping to reach the gates on the other side without being intercepted, hoping to leave the Mojave forever. The closer she drew to the gate, the more she began to question the decision; she hated knowing everything she was leaving behind, all the friends, all the power, all the potential of New Vegas... but it had to happen. If she didn't leave now, history would repeat itself, and she didn't think she could handle that experience twice in five years.

Just before she reached out to open the gate, someone bumped into her.

Sandra's heart skipped; was it a soldier? A ranger? Was she about to fight for her life again?

She turned, expecting to meet eyes with a disgruntled soldier, but she was surprised to find that a child had bumped into her. It was a young boy in overhauls, maybe nine or ten years old with ruffled brown hair. He gazed up at her, a glint of fear in his eyes, then scrambled away.

"What's wrong?" Sandra asked him. "Where are your parents?"

The boy backed away. He stepped behind someone else, a girl who looked to be about Sandra's age, perhaps a few years older. She wore a black, stylish jacket and a bandana around her head, keeping her blonde bangs from her eyes, her hair tied back in a fluffy ponytail.

"Sorry," the girl said. "He's just a bit shy. What're you three doing so close to the gate? They're not letting travelers in or out this way anymore, y'know."

Sandra swallowed a nervous gulp, Arcade and Vulpes sharing a brief glance. Was this girl NCR? She didn't look the part.

"Or... did you just come over here to talk to me?" the girl continued. "Are you here about the job?"

"What job?" Sandra asked.

"Oh... guess not, then," the girl said. "I'm looking to hire some help to get me to Louisiana. People who can handle themselves, good in a fight, know basic survival skills, things like that. You three interested?"

"Actually, ma'am-" Arcade began, but Sandra cut him off.

"Sure," Sandra said. "Sounds like a fun road trip. What's Louisiana?"

"Louisiana is a state," Arcade told her. "On the east coast. Clear across the country from here."

"That's exactly what we need," Sandra whispered, giving Arcade a wink. "A destination. And a flow of caps to get us there."

"You're traveling east, are you?" Vulpes asked the blonde girl. "You know you'll have to venture through Legion territory that way, yes?"

"Nope... not the way I'm going," the blond girl smirked. "I'm taking the scenic route. Traveling the roads is dangerous... but the rivers and oceans are up for grabs, if you have a nice enough boat."

"A boat trip?" Sandra beamed, feeling a sudden longing for adventure. "Hell yeah. We're in. Just tell us what we have to do."

"Cool. My name's Gretchen, and my little brother's name is Grady," the blonde said, extending a hand. "And you guys are?"

"I'm Sandra. This is Arcade, and this is... Mr. Fox."

"Nice to meet you three. But, before we get started... there's one teensy problem."

Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes eyed her. Gretchen released a sigh, patting her little brother's head.

"I kinda... sorta... lost my transportation," Gretchen murmured. "The boat is still intact, but it's been... um... repossessed."

"Don't tell me," Vulpes glowered disdainfully. "You stashed it at Cottonwood Cove, didn't you?"

Gretchen nodded solemnly, narrowing her eyes at him. "Yeah. I stashed it there years ago, before the Legion moved in. How'd you know?"

"That vessel belongs to the Legion now," Vulpes informed. "It's used to transport slaves up the river and such-"

Sandra rammed her elbow into his stomach, making him fall silent.

"Well... I can't go back for it, not by myself," Gretchen told them. "I can't risk getting carted off to slavery. I got a little brother to look after."

"We'll figure something out," Sandra said. "We'll figure out a way to get it back."

Arcade and Vulpes shot her a look.

"Thank you... _thank_ you," Gretchen smiled gratefully. "Me and Grady have been trying to find a way back home for ages. Seriously, thank you. You'll all be paid for your efforts, don't you worry."

" _Excuse_ me..." Vulpes yanked Sandra away, dragging her out of Gretchen's earshot. "What in the hell are you thinking? Do I need to remind you of what the Legion did to me? Do you think we can waltz in there and steal their ship without issue? Are you mad?"

"It's a ship?" Sandra said excitedly. "Really? It sounds big. Is it big? How big is it?"

"Damn you, woman... _listen to me_!" Vulpes whisper-yelled. "You think the Republic is bad, with their little handcuffs and due process and all that garbage? If the Legion catches wind of us, we'll be crucified, or worse. You and your doctor are direct enemies of theirs, and they consider me a traitor. _We'd be tortured to death_!"

"Yeah... for once, I agree with the fox," Arcade chimed in. "This is exactly why we decided to leave, Sandra. There are just too many big entities here who want to see us dead. It's too risky, stealing a boat from the Legion."

"You guys haven't thought this through, have you?" Sandra asked them both. "If we go east, we're walking into Legion territory. If we go west, we're walking into NCR territory. Up north and down south, the NCR and the Legion are butting heads for turf - and they both want us all dead. Don't you see? Taking the scenic route is the only chance we have of slipping past them both. If we stay on land, then eventually, one of them is gonna sniff us out. Not to mention, we're a lot easier to track on land."

Arcade's mouth fell open, but no words came out. Vulpes simply glared at her.

"Using the water is the safest way," Sandra stated. "Besides... we don't have to take the Legion head-on. All we have to do is sneak in. Vulpes, you have stashes all over the Mojave."

"And?" Vulpes barked, noticeably irate.

"You had armor and disguises stashed behind old gas stations and stuff," Sandra continued. "If you could get us three Legion outfits, we could walk right in."

"That's _insane_ ," Vulpes growled. "You're a woman. No Legionnaire warriors are women - and they'd recognize me with or without Legion attire."

"That's why we need those big dog-headed thingys." Sandra pointed to her own head, gesturing as if caressing an invisible headdress. "Y'know... that thing you were wearing when we first met. That thing covered your whole head and half of your face. That would keep us both hidden well enough. Nobody would be able to tell I'm a woman, not with all that armor on my chest."

"That still won't work," Vulpes fumed. "You two - you have no idea how to address a Legionary. The moment you opened your mouth, you'd give yourself away. You have a woman's voice, and they know my voice personally. Not to mention, half their conversations are in Latin."

"So... me and you won't be able to talk to anyone in Cottonwood Cove," Sandra determined. "But..."

She turned to Arcade.

"You know Latin," she said. "And they don't know your voice."

Arcade's face faded pale. "No..."

Sandra and Vulpes stared at him.

"No, no, no..." Arcade shook his head and backed away. "You want me to be a Legionary? That's..."

"That's the only way her insane plan might work," Vulpes concluded. "It's true that we're cornered at many angles by the Republic and the Legion. Going on foot would warrant a greater risk for us. As much as I hate this plan, traveling the waters is our best option. You, doctor... you're the one who'd have to do all the talking."

"All we have to do is walk through the camp and get on the boat," Sandra told the doctor. "That's all. You just have to tell the Legionaries that we were ordered to take the ship upriver, or something. Once we're on the boat, we'll have a getaway. It's fast and easy."

"There's one more problem," Vulpes added. "None of my stashes are nearby, and even then, I'd only have one set of armor in each place. I don't have enough disguises for the three of us."

"Well... we have to go through Nipton to get to Cottonwood Cove, right?" Sandra reminded. "Nipton is still full of Legionary stuff that your old friends left behind. There was some Legion stuff in the town hall when me and Niner first went there. Old flags, clothes, healing powder... even some of their dogs. Maybe that stuff's still there."

"H-hold on, you two," Arcade stammered. "I really think we should rethink this, I..."

"Come on, Arcade." Sandra gave him a disarming smile. "Please?"

Arcade released a cloud of breath, giving her a pleading stare. After a few long seconds of silence, he buried his face in his hands.

"Ugh... fine," he breathed. "This will be the death of me..."

"If we're lucky," Vulpes muttered. "Oh, doctor... if only I had the time to give you a proper Legion initiation."

Vulpes planted a hand on his shoulder, giving Arcade a strange smile. Arcade shuddered and ducked out of his grasp.

"Dodging spears soaked with pitch and lit ablaze," Vulpes sneered. "Climbing a mountainside with rocks tied to every limb. Crucifying civilians, showing no discrimination between man, woman, or child..."

"Shut up," Arcade choked. "That's not even _close_ to funny."

"Marching across a bed of nails protruding from the sand," Vulpes continued. "Fighting our best in the arena, allowing us to string you to a cross for three days with no food or water, peeling off your toenails as slowly and painfully as possible..."

"La-la-la-la, I can't hear you!" Arcade plugged his ears and turned away.

Sandra swallowed a laugh.

"Um... sorry to interrupt." Gretchen approached them from behind, her little brother hiding sheepishly behind her. "There's one more thing you should know before you go."

"What's what?" Sandra asked.

"Well, I've already had a few people ask me about the job," Gretchen told them. "They're all here, waiting for me to give them an answer. I'd like to have as much manpower as possible, but I don't know how to choose between them. They all seem pretty well-qualified..."

"What do you need them for?" Vulpes asked. "The woman and I are survivalists, and we have a doctor with us. We're all you need."

"I don't know about that," Gretchen said doubtfully. "It's good that you can handle yourselves, but these other guys... a few of them are pretty experienced in combat, and one of them is a decent repairman, which we might need if the boat acts up. I'll hire more people if it means taking less chances on the journey. I wanna get us there in one piece."

"I don't mind," Sandra shrugged. "I like the idea of traveling with more people. It'll be like a cruise."

"Yeah, well..." Gretchen mumbled. "I can't decide between them. Would you... help me out? Maybe give them an interview for me? I need an objective opinion on them."

"You want me to interview the other hired guns?" Sandra asked. "I guess I can do that. Where are they?"

"There's Jerry, Emily, Harrison, and Cooper. Cooper's at the bar, and the rest of them are wandering around outside, last I saw."

"Okay. I'll go talk to them for you."

Sandra looked down, meeting eyes with Grady.

"You ready to go home, kiddo?" she asked, flashing a polite grin and rustling his hair.

Grady ducked away and hid himself behind Gretchen again.

"Before we do this, I need to ask," Sandra said to Gretchen, feeling as if she already knew the answer. "Out in Louisiana... there's no Legion or NCR, right?"

"Course not," Gretchen laughed. "Things are a lot simpler out east."

Sandra wore a sad, reflective smile. "Ain't that the truth."

She waved them off, and Arcade and Vulpes followed her back into the heart of the Mojave Outpost.

"Sandra, are you sure about this?" Arcade asked. "This boat trip... is this the way you want to get out of the Mojave?"

"We have no choice," Sandra replied. "It's not like we have anywhere else to go."

"Nowhere?" Arcade said. "You're from the east coast, aren't you? You've been to a lot of places. Louisiana isn't our only option, is it?"

Sandra pondered on this, thinking of Megaton, Rivet City, and all the other homes she had back east. But the Capital Wasteland was incredibly far away... not to mention, she didn't think she could face everyone that she left behind five years ago. It was too far, and too much to face.

"The only other place is... somewhere I can't go back to," Sandra murmured vaguely. "It's Louisiana or nothing."


	10. Lost Lands

"All right... we'll interview these people tonight, then we'll sleep in the barracks and head out to get the boat in the morning. Sound good?"

Arcade and Vulpes stared at her, then traded glances.

"You sure you want to spend the night here?" Arcade asked warily. "The NCR is after us..."

"So far, only the rangers have come after us," Sandra replied. "It's gonna take some time before the entire NCR knows that we're wanted. Besides, I've done a lot for the people here. They're my friends. We're safe for just one night."

So, Sandra led the two of them around the corner, finding the first person Gretchen described to her. Behind the main building, a young man was sitting at a picnic table. He was skinny with deep, sandy hair and a baggy hoodie tenting over his body, fiddling with a Pip-Boy on his arm. This was the repairman, Jerry.

Sandra sat across from him. "Hey, Gretchen said you were interested in that boat job?"

Jerry blinked, looking up from his device. "Oh yeah, I was wondering when I'd hear from her."

"She sent me to ask you a few things. What kind of experience do you have?"

"Um..." Jerry shifted in his seat. "With traveling? None, really... but I'm pretty good at fixing things. My mom always said it was a useless skill."

"It's not a useless skill, not when you're stuck on a boat. It might need fixing."

"Yeah, true..."

"Any good at fighting?"

"Not really, but I can if I have to."

"All right," Sandra concluded, reaching her feet. "Thanks."

Next, they entered the bar and searched for the man named Cooper. It was late at night, so late that the bar was nearly empty, apart from a single guy sitting at the corner. He was a middle-aged balding man with a hardened scowl on his face, chasing whiskey with moonshine and grunting after every swig.

Sandra sat beside him. "Are you Cooper?"

"Yeah," Cooper grumbled, his voice a deep rasp. "And?"

"And... Gretchen sent me to ask you a few things about the job."

"Well. Ask."

"Okay... do you have any experience?"

"Yes."

"Can you... elaborate?"

"I kill shit. I used to work for the Omertas, but they didn't like my methods, so now I'm just a merc for hire."

"The... the _Omertas_ didn't like you?"

"Nope. They didn't. But I know how to kill, and that should be all you need."

"Okay... thanks."

Sandra left the bar and went back outside, Arcade and Vulpes tailing her. When she stepped into the night, she found an old man standing against the wall, flipping through an old, tattered book. He had a white, scraggly beard and a pair of camo pants, a wife beater draped over his torso, an eye patch covering his right eye.

"And you..." Sandra said. "You're Harrison, right?"

"Mhm." The old man, Harrison, gave a slight nod, barely acknowledging her.

"Gretchen asked me to interview you. Do you have any experience?"

"Mhm. Been killin' all my life," Harrison replied, looking up from his book. "Ain't got no one, so I just keep on killin'. This here rifle..." He stroked the rifle by his side. "She gets me by. Best company I got. She knows not to talk back."

"Where'd you get your combat experience?"

"Military."

"Yeah? What outfit?"

"You ask a _lot_ of questions." Harrison turned away, spitting a thick wad of saliva in the sand.

"All right... thanks."

Sandra walked away, her eyes scanning the outpost, searching for the final gun for hire. She spotted a dark-haired girl in the road, using a combat knife to clean her nails.

"So..." Sandra approached her. "Are you Emily?"

"Yeah." Emily didn't look up, digging the tip of her blade under her fingernails.

"Gretchen asked me to interview you. You got any experience?"

"Yeah, I'm with the Khans. I can fight melee, ranged, and everything in between. As long as I get paid, you'll get the job done."

"You're a Khan? How come you're not wearing the outfit?"

Emily's eyes shot up, narrowing at Sandra. "Uh... because we're surrounded by NCR here, and I don't wanna get shot? What are you, retarded?"

Sandra gaped at her. Vulpes almost laughed.

Without replying, Sandra marched away. she didn't speak until the three of them were safe from anyone eavesdropping.

"Well... we've got a girl from the Khans, a grumpy merc, an old military veteran, and a mechanic," Sandra synopsized. "Who should we hire for the boat trip?"

"None of them," Vulpes huffed. "I could fight better than any of them combined. They aren't needed."

"But Gretchen wants more people, and it's her trip. What she says goes," Sandra replied. "We have to pick someone. Which one?" She looked to Arcade for an answer.

Arcade drew a blank. "Um... the mechanic would be useful if we have problems with the boat, but... it would be nice if we had a little extra manpower, just in case... I'm really not sure..."

Sandra sighed. Arcade was undecided as well, and Vulpes didn't care for any of them.

She turned, seeing Gretchen sitting against the fence near the long 15 alongside her brother.

"Hey," Sandra said, getting her attention. "Gretchen, I talked to all of them."

"Yeah?" Gretchen replied. "Who should I pick?"

"All of them," Sandra answered.

Gretchen blinked. " _All_ of them?"

"Sure," Sandra said simply. "It's a long trip, and believe me, I've taken trips like that. The last thing you wanna do is travel across the country without numbers. The last time I tried to make a trip like that alone, I almost died a number of times. It's best if we have as much manpower as possible."

"Well... all right, if you say so," Gretchen shrugged. "I hope my grandmaw still has my piggy bank. But the boat's more than big enough to house them. It should be fine."

"All right. When we get the boat back, we're gonna sail it a little ways down the Colorado. Go to the mine and follow the hill downward, and we'll meet at the riverside right outside of the Legion turf."

"Gotcha. Be careful out there."

Sandra nodded. Now, only one problem remained; getting the boat from the Legion.

* * *

After a restless few hours of sleep, Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes left the Mojave Outpost and made their way to Nipton, which was, thankfully, a relatively short walk.

Joshua Graham and his tribals had built a massive junk wall around the town, the entrance now equipped with a ten-foot gate. Most of the town's inhabitants were asleep, aside from the two Dead Horses guarding the entrance, who greeted Sandra politely. Sandra didn't bother asking about Joshua or Follows-Chalk; she didn't have time to chat, and she didn't want to tell them that she planned to abandon the Mojave.

The three of them entered the town hall, and unlike the rest of the town, the tribals left it mostly untouched. After scavenging some Legion clothes from the inside, Vulpes fitted himself with a coyote headdress, his personal favorite. he handed Sandra a recruit helmet, which was just a football helmet painted red and fitted with a pair of dark goggles and a mouth guard.

"This is ridiculous," Arcade sighed as the three of them redressed in the town hall. "I can't believe I'm putting these damn clothes on..."

"Silence, profligate," Vulpes sneered, patting his chest proudly. Wearing the Legion armor and the coyote headdress, he looked exactly the way he had back when Sandra first met him.

After Sandra dressed in the crimson-clad armor, she giggled, watching Arcade uncomfortably squirm beneath the Legion skirt.

"God... it's so breezy on my legs," Arcade moaned. "I feel... exposed."

"Be quiet." Vulpes handed him another recruit helmet. "And take off your eyeglasses. Legionaries don't wear those."

"Oh, come on... I can barely see without them," Arcade grumbled, slipping off his glasses and pocketing them.

Sandra dug around until she found an old smelly backpack on a corpse behind the counter, gently removing the backpack and wiping the residue off on the wall. She stuffed her clothes, Vulpes's suit, and Arcade's lab coat inside and slid the backpack on.

Afterward, Vulpes approached her and gave her a surveying examination.

Sandra gulped. "What?"

"It's not enough," Vulpes stated. "You still look like a woman. You need to cover your face."

Without warning, Vulpes snapped the goggles around her head and covered her eyes, then snatched the bandana out of her pocket and tied it firmly around her mouth.

"Better," Vulpes said. "So long as you don't talk, you won't get found out."

"I can't breathe," Sandra mumbled, her voice completely muffled as her mouth filled with cloth.

Vulpes then faced Arcade, who looked downright miserable, trapped in Legion attire with the recruit helmet smushing his hair over his forehead.

"Without the glasses, you look passable... but that's not enough," Vulpes told him. "You need to speak with authority. Stop using your sarcastic little wimpy voice. Use a man's voice. Speak with power."

"This is my hell," Arcade said, deadpan.

"Speak with passion. Ad victorium. Retribution. Ad victorium. Retribution!" Vulpes ordered. "Do it! Say it!"

Arcade glared at him, looking to Sandra for help. But Sandra was lost amidst laughter.

"Ad victorium," Arcade said, clearing his throat. "Retribution. Ave, true to Caesar, hail Satan and all that..."

"You're hilarious," Vulpes griped. "Just carry yourself like a warrior, and we'll get to the vessel. You won't have to present the facade for very long, thankfully. Off we go."

The three of them slipped out of the back of the building, avoiding the eyes of the tribals in town. As the sun rose, they headed toward Cottonwood Cove, Arcade leading the way unwittingly.

After they passed Searchlight, the sun was blazing, and they approached the hill leading to the Legion encampment.

Arcade gulped. "I... don't know if I can..."

"It's okay," Sandra whispered, patting him on the back. "You've got this. It won't take long. Let's just get it over with."

Arcade nodded, marching down the hill with Sandra and Vulpes close behind.

All of them felt incredibly tense, but it seemed to be going well thus far; the nearby Legionaries were tending to their daily tasks, transporting crop slaves, sharpening weapons, and stoking campfires. None of them seemed to notice their arrival.

A Legion veteran was leading a scouting party toward the road to Searchlight, and they walked past Sandra and her friends. The veteran nodded at Arcade in passing.

"Ave," the veteran said.

"Ave, true to Caesar," Arcade replied in a forcibly masculine voice. When the veteran left his eyeshot, Arcade gave him a Nazi salute from behind. Sandra nearly exploded with laughter.

"Stop it," Vulpes hissed under his breath. "Any hint of unusual behavior will give you away. Stop acting like reprobates, you idiots."

"Jawohl, mein Führer," Arcade snarked in response.

The three of them marched past the main building and approached the river. They stood at the top of the hill, marveling at the magnificent vessel in the water; it sat at the end of the dock, a spectacular three-story ship with white painted walls, interior rooms, windows, and Legion flags hanging from every balcony.

"Wow..." Sandra whispered. "I never saw this last time I came here."

"It comes and goes quite frequently in order to transport crops and slaves," Vulpes explained. "You're lucky it happened to be here when we showed up today. Let's get this over with. Gannon, you can't afford to slip up now. When we get on board, you have to do the talking."

"Don't remind me," Arcade sighed. "Let's go."

They walked down the dock and stepped onto the boat, nodding at the nearby Legionaries as they marched past. They searched around for a few minutes until they reached the top floor, where the steering mechanism resided, and the man in charge was another Legion veteran, standing at the wheel with his arms crossed and looking out at the river.

"Erm... excuse me," Arcade said. "I've been ordered to take the boat upriver."

The veteran slowly turned, squinting pensively at Arcade. "Is that so? By whom?"

Arcade gulped. "Lucius gave me the order. I was instructed to retrieve a new group of slaves and escort them to the Fort."

The veteran gave him a suspicious glare. "Ubi sunt servorum?"

"Sursum flumine," Arcade answered. "Inter Fort huc. It will be a fairly short trip."

"Really..." the veteran murmured. "I was unaware of any slaves coming in today."

"It's a fresh stock," Arcade lied. "Just a few travelers that were venturing past Nelson."

The veteran was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. You can take my crew to complete the expedition."

"Oh... that's really not necessary," Arcade said. "The three of us can handle it. It's a rather small group of slaves. Nothing we can't handle."

"The three of you..." the veteran glared intensely at the disguised Sandra and Vulpes. "I don't believe I've met you three before. Whereabouts are you from?"

"We came from the east rather recently, Lanius's orders," Arcade told him. "My name is Arcadiae, and these two are Occisor Rubrum and Callidus Stultus."

"Stultus?" the veteran laughed, glancing at Vulpes. "What on earth did he do to earn that name?"

"He's clever, but he's too proud for his own good," Arcade smirked, gesturing to Vulpes. "Often acts on impulse despite his devout planning skills. He blew up half his foot placing a landmine in a profligate dwelling once when he was a teenager. Poor thing. He was dropped on his head as a baby. Lanius thought it would be funny to incorporate his slight retardation into his name."

The veteran let out a barking laugh. "Quite right. It's nice to keep fools around for sheer entertainment, if nothing else."

"Lanius's thoughts exactly," Arcade nodded.

Vulpes was fuming, hands balling into fists, but he couldn't outwardly speak as of now.

"Well... if you're taking the vessel, what of me and my crew?" the veteran asked. "Where does Lucius wish us to go? Did he send any orders for us?"

"Oh, um... he wants you to accompany the scouting crew leaving Cottonwood Cove," Arcade replied wittily. "You'd better hurry, though. They're already on their way out of town."

"Damn. I hate these last-minute orders," the veteran sighed. "All right. Give us a moment to get on land, then you can be on your way. Vale."

Arcade nodded. The three of them watched as the veteran gathered his comrades and began leading them off the ship.

After the Legionaries left the ship, Vulpes planted a hard kick into Arcade's shin, making him collapse against the wall.

"Retardation, indeed," Vulpes hissed. "Wait until we're out of this blasted camp. I'll castrate you and throw you overboard."

Arcade didn't seem to mind the thumping pain in his leg. He sat hunched against the wall, exhaling a series of breathless laughs.

Sandra took the wheel and spun it around, slowly guiding the ship away from Cottonwood Cove. It took a moment for her to adjust to the controls, but once she did, she sailed away from the Legion camp, easefully coasting the magnificent ship up the river, into a crevice of mountains and out of all the Legionaries' sight. Once they were far enough from Cottonwood Cove, Sandra peeled off the helmet and the bandana, taking in a massive inhalation of fresh air and grinning at the sparkling river water.

"I can't believe we just did that," Sandra giggled. "We're home-free now. Say goodbye to the Mojave, guys. We're free!"

"Well... I suppose we'd better pick our bedroom," Arcade said, sliding off his helmet and ruffling up his hair. "We'll get first dibs on the rooms before we pick up the others. I think we earned that right, since we had to get the boat back for them."

At that, Arcade ventured down the stairs and disappeared.

Sandra beamed at the idea, excited to pick a bedroom for their oncoming cruise. She wheeled around, ready to follow Arcade, but she spotted Vulpes standing at the edge of the balcony, staring behind the ship where Cottonwood Cove was moments ago.

"What's wrong with you?" Sandra asked him.

Vulpes frowned at the river. "You wouldn't understand it, woman."

"Yeah?" Sandra asked. "Try me."

Vulpes turned, staring intently at her. "Being here, I might've won my Legion back from the Monster of the East. But if we're leaving, that can never happen."

Sandra frowned. "Why would you want to? You already tried to save the Legion once, and it didn't work. Just let it go."

"Just let it go..." Vulpes scoffed. "Like I said. You don't understand it. You're asking me to relinquish the only thing that ever gave me purpose. It can't be done."

Sandra leaned on the balcony, gazing out at the river thoughtfully. "I don't see why not. I had to let go of everything in my old life, and now I'm doing it all over again. If I can do it, then so can you."

"I don't believe you ever let go of anything," Vulpes stated.

Sandra blinked. "What do you mean?"

Vulpes's blue gaze burned into hers. "It's obvious. The way you talk about your old life, and the quickness you expressed at leaving the Mojave behind... you're not _letting go_ of anything. You're simply running away from it."

Sandra took back. "No I'm not."

"Back on the east coast... you fought the Enclave, and you won that war, did you not?" Vulpes asked. "Yet, for some reason, you left that place behind. You had no reason to leave; you won your homeland. You won the battle. Yet, you still ran. Why?"

"Because..." Sandra thought on this, finding it difficult to answer. "It... it was too hard to stay. I lost my father and my best friend there. It hurt too much to be there."

"So, you ran away," Vulpes determined. "And here, in the Mojave... despite the threat of the Republic targeting you, you have numerous forces on your side. Freeside citizens, the bots on the strip, the Great Khans, the burned man and his army... you stood a formidable chance at winning the oncoming war, and you gained incredible wealth and notoriety, yet still, you chose to run away again. Why?"

"Because of you and Arcade, stupid," Sandra snapped. "They put bounties on your heads. I don't want either one of you to die. That's why we're leaving."

"That's a weak answer," Vulpes glowered. "We've faced threats that put the Republic's toy soldiers to shame. We could survive their petty bounty hunters. In fact, we did once already. You had every possible mean to win the war against them. We don't _have_ to run. You simply _want_ to."

"Yeah, because I wanna live to see tomorrow," Sandra quipped irritably. "But if you wanna stay here and die, be my guest."

At that, she whirled around and left the top floor of the ship.

* * *

When they stopped the ship, they waited for a few hours until Gretchen and her hired guns finally arrived. They showed up downhill from the nearby mine, just as Sandra had instructed.

Emily was wearing her Great Khan leather vest now, carrying a super sledge over her shoulder. Cooper and old man Harrison had picked up a few extra guns, and Jerry was now wearing a repairman's jumpsuit and carrying a toolbox. All of them had overstuffed backpacks full of food and personal belongings, ready to make a long journey.

Grady trailed along behind his older sister, followed by a small gray dog with two differently-colored eyes, one yellow, one blue. The three of them boarded the ship first, followed by the hired help.

Once everyone was on board, Sandra carefully guided the ship away from the water's edge, setting course upriver.

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but... how did you get my boat back?" Gretchen questioned.

"We dressed up as Legionaries and walk right on board," Sandra chuckled. "It was easy."

"Wow... if I would've known that would work, I would've hired someone to do it sooner," Gretchen muttered.

"Hey, Arcade picked out a room for us before you guys got on. I hope that's okay."

"Oh, that's no problem. There's plenty of room on board this thing."

"Cool."

The two of them were standing alone on the top floor, as everyone else was somewhere downstairs, finding their sleeping quarters and making themselves at home.

"So..." Sandra mumbled. "If you wanna go home so badly, why did you leave in the first place? I'm just curious. It's a long trip to make, so... you must've had a good reason."

Gretchen leaned on the balcony and sighed. "I met a guy. It always starts that way, doesn't it? With stupid puppy love. Anyway... we came to New Vegas because everyone told us it was different here, that we could live the way we wanted with no judgment. I don't know. I guess I was a bit ignorant back then."

"Weren't we all," Sandra mused.

"Yeah..." Gretchen murmured. "Grady snuck on board with our family dog. By the time we realized it, it was too late to turn back. Little troublemaker..."

"What's the deal with Grady, anyway?" Sandra asked. "How come he never talks to anyone?"

"He's been through a lot," Gretchen said distantly. "Don't take it personally. He's wary of strangers."

"Well, I guess that makes sense..."

They were quiet for a moment. The brisk breeze swept their bangs aside, carrying the scent of fresh water.

"What was his name?" Sandra wondered. "Your boyfriend."

Gretchen's stare softened a bit. "His name was Darren."

"What happened to him?"

"He died."

Sandra felt an uncomfortable knot form in her stomach, and suddenly, she regretted asking. "Sorry..."

"Nah, don't be," Gretchen mumbled. "That kind'a shit happens all the time in the wasteland. Nothing I can do about it now."

Sandra gave her an empathetic look. "Is that... is that why you're leaving the Mojave?"

"Yeah... I guess so," Gretchen exhaled. "I left a family behind, and I shouldn't have. Now that Darren's gone, there's nothing keeping me here. It just..."

She sighed, pausing for a moment.

"It hurts too much to be here anymore," Gretchen said.

Sandra stared sadly into the river. "I know how you feel."

As time passed, the ship carried them further and further from any recognizable territory, and Sandra found herself reflecting on the past once again. It felt the same way it had the first time, as if she was drifting away from everything that had caused her pain or sorrow... though she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Only time would tell.

She couldn't have known that this would be the longest journey she'd endure since leaving the Capital Wasteland.


	11. Then and There, Here and Now I

_2277_

"Please... please, you've got to help me!"

Sandra halted midstep, wheeling around and searching for the source of the screaming. Charon and Bryan both smashed into her when she stopped.

"Geez, give me some warning!" Bryan complained.

"Mistress," Charon growled. "What's the matter?"

Sandra straightened out her modified merc adventurer outfit, her eyes landing on a ginger-haired woman standing down the hill, next to the river. She was marching off the docks, trying to wave Sandra down.

Sandra wandered down the hill, and Bryan followed. Thrash, the young yao guai cub, lumbered along closely at Bryan's heels.

Charon let out an audible groan before following them.

"What's a matter?" Sandra asked the woman.

"Please... I need someone to..." the woman began, but her voice broke on a sob. She buried her face in her hands and began to cry.

Sandra frowned sadly at her. "Don't cry... just tell me what's wrong. We might be able to help."

"Mistress..." Charon grumbled faintly. "We're on your dad's trail. We can't afford to get side-tracked again."

"Sh-she... my daughter, she..." the woman wept. "She took the ferry, and... she never came home... please, I don't have the money to buy ferry tickets... I need someone to find her... please, I'm worried sick..."

"Where does the ferry go?" Sandra asked.

"A place called Point Lookout," the woman replied, wiping her eyes. "My daughter... Nadine... she went there looking for adventure, or money, or something... I don't know. She's not safe... God, she's so reckless sometimes..."

"Sounds like someone else I know," Charon rumbled, but Sandra ignored him.

"Sounds like fun," Sandra grinned excitedly, swapping childlike smirks with Bryan. "Let's go on a ferry ride."

"R-really?" the woman gasped, her eyes widening. "Oh... _thank_ you!"

" _Mistress_ ," Charon growled severely, pulling her aside. "You don't know anything about this place, and you can't keep blowing caps."

"Shut _up_ , Charon!" Sandra griped, yanking her arm away. "Damn, don't you ever wanna just travel and have fun? Come on. Let's live a little."

"For fuck's sake... the woman said her daughter never came home," Charon said. "Why do you think that is? Because she probably got killed out there."

"Yeah, but I have you," Sandra said simply. "I'm not worried. Whatever's out there, we'll kick its ass."

Charon pressed his fingers into his temples.

"Hey... it's a chance to have fun," Sandra smiled, gesturing to the boat at the edge of the dock. "Look at that. I've never been on a boat trip before. Think of it like a vacation, okay? Just try to have fun."

"Nowhere in my contract does it say that I'm required to have _fun_ ," Charon grumbled.

"No, but your contract says you have to follow my orders, right?" Sandra pointed to the boat. "Get on that boat. I _order_ you to have fun!"

Charon crossed his arms, his milky blue eyes narrowing as he stared down at her. He was nearly a head taller than her.

Sandra waited expectantly for him to move, and after nearly a full minute of silence, he finally did. Charon, Bryan, and Thrash followed her to the boat, and when they reached the end of the dock, they were intercepted by a man in a long green overcoat, wearing a fishing hat and smiling behind a thick brown mustache.

"Hello hello, treasure hunters," the man said. "My name is Tobar, your one and only ferryman in and out of the Capital Wasteland. So, what'll it be? Three tickets for Point Lookout?"

"Sure, if you're willing to take some trade along with caps," Sandra replied. "I can't spend all my money on tickets, but I have plenty of other valuable stuff to trade."

"Sounds good to me."

The two of them spent nearly half an hour sorting through Sandra's bag of loot until coming to an agreeable price. The tickets were sold at half their usual price, and in exchange, Sandra gave him five handguns, a hunting rifle, and numerous handfuls of loose ammunition.

"All right, that about does it," Tobar concluded. "Just make yourself comfortable. We'll be heading out shortly."

"How long is this boat ride?" Bryan asked.

"Oh, just a few days," Tobar replied. "One or two weeks tops. There's plenty of fine loot to find there, kids, so much undiscovered."

"Sweet!" Sandra and Bryan both exclaimed, though Charon seemed unimpressed.

"Oh..." Sandra recalled, glimpsing back at the dock where the distraught ginger woman stood. "That reminds me... that woman's daughter, Nadine... you took her to Point Lookout, right?"

"Yes, I did."

"Do you have any idea where she might've gone?"

"Well... most people who go to Point Lookout cross paths with that commune of tribals out there. When you get there, that'd be your best place to look."

"Oh, great, thanks."

Sandra darted over to the edge, leaning on the balcony and beaming at the river. Bryan joined her, and Thrash galloped around excitedly by their ankles.

"This is so cool," Bryan remarked. "You're seriously the coolest grown-up I've ever met. I never thought I'd get to go on a vacation."

"Sheesh, what did I tell you when we first met?" Sandra snarked. "Do I look like a grown-up to you?"

Bryan laughed. "How old are you, anyway, Sandra?"

"I'm nineteen," Sandra said. "Definitely not grown up."

"Got that right..." Charon grumped.

Sandra spun around, grinning up at Charon's red, ghoulish face. "You might not care, Charon, but I'm glad we're doing this, and I'm glad you're with me. I'm gonna teach you how to have fun if it kills me."

"Don't worry, it will," Charon quipped.

Tobar moved the boat away from the dock, sailing it down the river. Sandra, Bryan, and Charon watched from the balcony as they drifted away from the Capital Wasteland.

Sandra formed an ear-to-ear smile.

"This is gonna be _awesome_."

* * *

 _2282_

After being on the ship for nearly twenty-four hours, Sandra finally awoke.

She, Arcade, and Vulpes were sharing a rather large room on the second floor, with white-painted walls, a dresser, a desk, four beds, and numerous paintings along the walls of lighthouses and ocean sides. It was the cleanest, most comfortable environment she'd slept in since the last time she slept in the Lucky 38.

Arcade was snoozing faintly across from her, his glasses lopsidedly sliding off his face, and Vulpes was gone, likely still sitting at the balcony and glaring angrily into the passing landscapes.

Sandra giggled, reaching her feet and slipping the glasses off of Arcade's face, placing them on his nightstand.

She left the room, peering around and seeing that it was still nighttime. No one was around, which meant they were all either busy or asleep; the second floor of the ship contained the bedrooms, while the first floor played host to the kitchen and the dining area, as well as the lavatories. The top floor was a wide open space containing a few couches stationed around a coffee table, and it was also where Gretchen spent most of her time, as she was in charge of steering the ship.

Sandra wandered downstairs, only to find Jerry the repairman hunched over his toolbox beside the utility door, digging through his tools and supplies.

"What're you doing?" Sandra asked.

"Oh... the engine," Jerry said. "It's pretty thrown-together, cheaply made. I'm gonna tweak it a little bit. It's better if we don't end up stranded in the middle of nowhere."

"Good call."

Jerry closed the toolbox and stood upright. He was about to go into the utility room, then stopped; Emily walked past them, heading toward the kitchen. Jerry stared at her as she strolled, his mouth hanging slightly agape. He didn't look away until Emily vanished behind the kitchen door.

Sandra smirked. "You got a thing for her, don't you?"

"Ahm..." Jerry nearly dropped the toolbox, snapping his arms around it and clutching it to his chest. "Shit. Fuck... is it that obvious?"

"You were ogling her like a horny dog," Sandra laughed.

Jerry fumbled into the utility room and slammed the door. Sandra was able to hear him drop the toolbox inside, the tools scattering everywhere, followed by a frustrated _"Fuck!"_ echoing from behind the door.

Sandra snickered as she wandered into the kitchen. Emily was frying some skinned squirrels, and Harrison was boiling some herbal tea on the stove. Cooper was leaning on the counter, waiting for the food to be finished and fiddling with a bottle of pills.

"This shit's different," Emily moaned, glaring at the husks of meat in the frying pan. "I'm used to using a campfire. Anyone here know how to use a stove?"

"Scooch over, little missy," Harrison said, sliding in front of the stove. "I'll take it from here."

"Where'd you get squirrels?" Sandra wondered. "Did you hunt them yourself?"

"Nah," Emily replied. "The Legion had a bunch of food stashed in here for themselves. It should get us by for a while."

Sandra moved around the counter and flung the fridge open, delighted to find a cherry-flavored Nukacola in the door. She popped it open and took a long, icy swig.

"Oh... God... _yes_ ," Sandra breathed. "That's so fucking good..."

"There's more meat in there, but it's mirelurk," Emily said. "I didn't cook that. I fucking _hate_ mirelurk. It tastes like sponges soaked in fish water. You guys can have the mirelurk, that's all you."

Sandra beamed. She hadn't eaten mirelurk in years, not since...

"Point Lookout," she remembered. "Yeah, they were loaded with mirelurks. All I ate for weeks was mirelurk cakes and punga fruit..."

Sandra pulled the plastic-wrapped mirelurk meat from the fridge and slapped it on the counter. She turned just in time to see Cooper swallow a handful of pills.

"What's that?" Sandra asked, pointing to his medication bottle. "Aspirin or something?"

"It's a personal prescription," Cooper growled. "It's called none-of-your-fucking-business."

At that, Cooper shot up from his stool and stormed out of the kitchen. Everyone stared as he vanished from their presence.

"Jesus... what the hell is his problem?" Sandra grumbled. "What a prick."

"Ehk... I've seen his type before," Harrison mumbled, hocking a wad of saliva and spitting into a trashcan by the counter. "Done nothing but killing all his life, I'll bet. Same as me, except he wasn't military. Guys like that tend to work for goons and crimelords instead. Angry fuckers. Think the world owes 'em something."

"Yeah... could you stop spitting like that?" Emily asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Especially when you're standing over my dinner..."

Harrison grumbled something incomprehensible.

"Hey, Harrison... do you know how to make mirelurk cakes?" Sandra asked hopefully. "They were one of my favorite foods... but when I moved out west, I couldn't find them anymore. There's hardly any mirelurks anywhere in the Mojave."

"Oh, sure," Harrison agreed. "I've been damn near everywhere on the planet, learned how to cook just about everything I ever killed... except people. Mirelurk cakes are a refined taste. You either love 'em or you hate 'em. There's no in between."

Sandra was grinning widely while Emily scowled at the mirelurk meat.

"I'll cook you up some mirelurk cakes, kiddo," Harrison said. "I know just how to season 'em, too."

Sandra squealed with joy. "Thank you!"

"Hey, redhead," Emily beckoned, pulling a box of cards from her pocket. "While he's making dinner, you wanna play some poker? Ever played?"

"Hell yeah I've played. I'm the God of Vegas, you think I don't know how to gamble?" Sandra cackled.

The girls stepped into the dining area, sitting at the small round table as Emily prepared the cards.

"Me and my friends used to do this all the time," Sandra said. "The only thing missing is Nukarum."

"Oh, you want booze?" Emily responded, pulling a long, beautiful bottle of transparent liquid from her satchel bag. "It's not rum, but it'll get the job done."

"God, this is the best vacation ever," Sandra smiled.

Emily mixed the vodka with a sarsaparilla while Sandra mixed it with her Nukacola. Both of them poured an obscene amount of liquor into their bottles, and both of them chugged nearly half of it right away.

"Nice to meet another drinkin' girl," Emily smirked. "Don't meet many who can keep up with me."

"Shit... you come to the right place."

Emily delt the cards and laid the deck face-down.

"You wanna bet something?" Sandra said. "Let's make this more interesting."

"I don't know. I didn't bring much with me," Emily replied.

"How about that super sledge?"

"Nah, that's my favorite weapon, dude. I'll bet my pistol, though. And what about you? What can you bet on?"

"Um... I'm not sure."

"I saw that shotgun you had," Emily sneered. "That's a nice piece. You don't see many combat shotguns around here."

"No... I can't bet on that," Sandra said. "That belonged to a really close friend of mine."

"All right, let's just bet pitiful amounts of caps." Emily pulled a few from her pocket. "I have three on me. The bet is three caps. There."

Sandra laughed.

Just then, someone stepped into the doorway. Sandra expected it to be Harrison, but she was surprised to see Vulpes standing over her shoulder.

"Where have you been?" Sandra asked.

"Contemplating," Vulpes replied shortly. "I need food. Is there food?"

"Yeah, Harrison's making some fried squirrel bits and some mirelurk cakes," Sandra told him.

"Mirelurk _cakes_?" Vulpes retorted. "Why would you fashion a crab monster into _cakes_?"

"To make crab cakes, duh. They're delicious, I promise."

"Tch. I highly doubt that."

Emily's eyes were fixed on Vulpes, though Vulpes didn't seem to notice.

"When will the food be ready?" Vulpes inquired.

"How should I know? I'm not the one making it," Sandra responded. "Geez, just be patient."

Vulpes scoffed and left the room.

Emily stared after him for a moment, then turned to Sandra. "Damn... who's your sexy friend in the suit?"

"Vulpes?" Sandra chuckled. "Why, you got a crush or something?"

"He's hot, what can I say," Emily shrugged. "He seeing anyone?"

"Not really, but I doubt he'd be interested."

"Why?"

"Because..." Sandra pondered on this. "It's hard to explain. He kinda has a stick up his ass."

"What, he a politician or something?"

Sandra let out a barking laugh. " _Hell_ no. Furthest thing from it. He used to be a tribal, actually. Same as you."

"Really? Was he a Great Khan?"

"No... but he's tough as nails, and he's not into romance. Not as far as I can tell, anyway..."

"So... between him and the doctor, which one are you after?"

Sandra stared at her. "After?"

Emily shot her a caustic smile. "Come on, girl. You're traveling with two sexy guys, and you're not after either one of them? I find that hard to believe."

"I don't really know," Sandra muttered. "I mean... Arcade's only ever been with guys. I don't even know if he'd be attracted to a girl. And Vulpes would probably stab me before hooking up with me..."

"Kinky," Emily giggled. "Just my type."

"Well, feel free to go for it," Sandra urged. "I'd love to see his reaction. That shit would be hilarious."

"Hey." Gretchen leaned into the room. "Grady just fell asleep. Have you guys started already? Got room for one more?"

"We haven't started yet," Emily said. "Go ahead and grab some cards. I got vodka, too."

"Sweet," Gretchen grinned.

The girls sat around laughing, drinking, and playing for a while until Harrison stepped into the room with a massive plate, half of it filled with squirrel bits, the other half covered in mirelurk cakes. Sandra became overjoyed, grabbing handfuls of the cakes for herself and forgetting to find Vulpes to inform him that dinner was ready.

For the first time in a long time, Sandra actually enjoyed herself, joking with a group of misfits and drinking until the room began to spin. At nearly three in the morning, she finally decided that she'd had enough fun for the night, leaving the dining area and wandering out into the dark, her stomach gurgling irritably, the mixture of crab meat and vodka swirling around inside her.

Before she could reach her room, she bumped into someone.

Grady peered up at her fearfully, taking a step back.

Sandra tried to focus her drunken gaze on him, placing a hand on the wall for support. "What... didja get scared? Have a nightmare or sumthin'?"

Grady slowly nodded.

"You never talk much, doyah?" Sandra asked. "I get it. You're just shy. I was the same way when I was a kid. I had these bullies, and they fucked with me all the time... there was this kid named Butch, and... _fuck_ , he was an asshole. I grew up pretty skittish, too. I know how you feel..."

"You... you do?" Grady replied timidly. "And... you're like a mercenary now. That's so cool! I bet you get to play with guns, right?"

"Oh _hell_ yeah," Sandra smirked. "All the time."

Grady's dog pranced up behind him, nuzzling the boy's hip.

"I like your doggie," Sandra said.

"His name's Vandal," Grady replied. "We named him that because he broke one of my grandmaw's crystal vases when he was a puppy. He used to protect me when I was in the swamp. He's a good boy."

"Swamp?"

"Yeah, the swamp back home. Vandal would bark and chase away the monster."

"What monster?"

"Sabre," Grady whispered, shuddering. "I still dream about it... the swamp monster. Grandpaw said that Sabre goes after bad hunters in the swamp. Hunters who aren't cautious."

"That's... weird," Sandra moaned, trying to blink her vision straight. "Didn't... didn't your sister say that Louisiana was safe? I didn't think there'd be monsters there."

"It's not so bad... if you stay away from Sabre," Grady said.

"Well, listen..." Sandra tried to lean downward, but steadied herself instead, feeling as if she might accidentally fall on the boy. "I've been to a swamp once before, and there were mirelurks, and cannibal rednecks, and crazy tribals, and wild dogs... and you know what? Me and my friends killed them all. If there's any monsters in your swamp back home, I'm sure we can handle 'em. You won't have to worry about Sabre anymore."

Grady's eyes lit up, a smile forming. "Really? Man... you're the coolest grown-up ever!"

"Do I look like a grown-up to you?" Sandra laughed. "Come on, kiddo... it's really late. You should go back to bed. Don't think about Sabre anymore. Your nightmares are over."

Grady flung his arms around her waist, squeezing her with a warm embrace and almost knocking her backward. Then, Grady bolted back up the stairs to his room, Vandal galloping after him.

Sandra moved to follow in his footsteps, though the floorboard seemed to be shifting under her feet. Slowly and carefully, she maneuvered her way up the stairs, falling only once and quickly picking herself back up.

Finally, she stumbled into her room, slammed the door, turned, and fell to the floor again.

Arcade jumped, pushing himself upright and grabbing his glasses. "What the hell was...?"

He stared down, seeing Sandra lying sleepily on the floor.

Arcade went blank-faced. "I see you've had a productive evening."

"Mhm," Sandra groaned into the carpet. "I'm tired. G'night."

"You can't just sleep on the floor."

"Yeah...? Watch me."

Arcade let out a sigh, standing and sliding his arms underneath her. He lifted her off the ground and placed her on the bed across from his, draping her blanket overtop of her.

Sandra smiled tiredly up at him. "Thank you..."

"Don't thank me, this is my job," Arcade chuckled. "You know, you lashed out at Niner for getting smashed. You'd better watch yourself. You might slip into those old bad habits again."

"I won't..." Sandra yawned. "There's not enough booze on board for that..."

Arcade gave her a half-smile. He climbed back into his own bed, and the two of them drifted to sleep.


	12. Then and There, Here and Now II

_3 Months Later_

Many nights were spent the same way as the first, with the gang huddled around the table downstairs, playing cards, drinking, and chatting with one another. Harrison had little to say, and Cooper never joined in on the fun, nor did Vulpes. Arcade would join them periodically, but despite Sandra's best efforts, the doctor never drank himself into a stupor like everyone else.

During the day, Gretchen and Grady would fish from the balcony, while Emily used a homemade harpoon in an attempt to reel in some bigger prey, though it rarely succeeded. Gretchen taught Sandra how to use a fishing pole, and she spent a lot of time with Gretchen and Grady, reeling fish out of the water and dropping them in the buckets. Grady became excited every time he caught a fish, and Sandra found it adorable.

Occasionally, Emily would make eyes at Vulpes. Vulpes would simply stare at her for a moment before walking away, and Sandra and Emily would giggle every time he did. During their time on the rivers, they would make pit stops and scavenge empty lands for supplies, but now, they'd been on the ocean for many weeks; they hadn't stopped anywhere for a very long time.

Sandra quite enjoyed the long journey, but she had to admit, she was growing stir-crazy, and everyone else was as well. Gretchen promised that they were nearing the end of the journey, and they all hoped she was right. Cooper seemed to be the angriest about their time on the ocean, occasionally muttering vulgarities under his breath and calling Gretchen a plethora of colorful names every time the topic was brought up. And, every time he got worked up, he'd swallow another handful of pills. Sandra was beginning to wonder what the pills were for; whatever they were, they obviously did nothing to tame his temper.

As the third month of their journey began, the weather grew chillier, and the atmosphere seemed to morph around them. They sailed through murky fogs rather than sunny days, and the temperature was dropping. Tonight, Sandra was wrapped up in one of the Legion flags as well as her blanket, desperate to keep warm.

It was about one in the morning, and there was a thunderstorm raging outside. The waves knocked against the ship, but everyone tried to ignore it. Still, Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes began to stir awake, but it wasn't due to the commotion from the storm; it was the sound of Gretchen and Cooper's voices, both of them screaming just outside of their bedroom.

The three of them exchanged expressions before rising from bed and marching outside. Sandra swiftly grabbed her shotgun and held it behind her.

Everyone was awoken by the argument; Emily and Jerry were standing down the walkway, both of them still dazed and sleepy, their hair messy. Harrison stepped out of his room as well, and everyone watched as Cooper succumbed to a fit of rage.

"I've had fucking enough of this," Cooper snarled, jabbing a finger at Gretchen. "We've been out here for three fucking months, and where's Louisiana? Where's your mommy and your grandmaw? Huh? You got us fucking lost out here!"

"We're _not_ lost. I have a map," Gretchen glowered. "I know exactly where we're going. We're almost there-"

"Don't give me that bullshit!" Cooper screamed. "You've been saying that for days! When they fuck are we supposed to get there? Huh?! You're full of shit. Now, let me tell you how this is gonna go down, bitch; you're gonna give me this boat, and I'm going the fuck back home."

"What?" Gretchen took back. "Where do you expect me to go? We're out in the middle of nowhere."

"I don't give a shit. Drown for all I care," Cooper growled. "You wanna risk life and limb to see mommy and daddy again? This is what you get. I will _not_ die out here adrift in the fucking ocean!"

"No... you know what? You can go to hell," Gretchen said severely, taking a step forward. "I've made a lot of mistakes, ran from a lot of things... but the time for running's over. You are a fuckin' coward, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you stand in my way."

Cooper whipped out his revolver and fired off a shot-

BANG.

Gretchen snapped her eyes shut.

Cooper's head exploded into a revolting mess of blood and brain matter. His body hit the floor, the revolver flying down the walkway.

Gretchen's eyes darted around, landing on Sandra, who was just lowering her combat shotgun.

Everyone fell silent for a moment, a wave of shock and nausea sweeping over them.

"Fuck..." Emily uttered. Jerry tried to wrap an arm around her, hoping to comfort her, but she jerked away from him.

"He had it comin'," Harrison said dismissively.

"Fuckin' lunatic!" Gretchen strode forward and kicked the body, then hunched down and grabbed Cooper's shirt, lunging him under the balcony and tossing the corpse into the ocean.

Gretchen stayed there for a moment, leaning on the balcony and trying not to vomit.

Sandra approached her. "You okay?"

"Shit... I'm glad I hired you," Gretchen breathed. "I think he was really gonna kill me... shit..."

Gretchen was cradling her side, blood oozing between her fingers.

"Whoa... I think he got you," Arcade said. "Come on, go lie down, I'll take a look at it."

"Thanks..." Gretchen sighed.

Arcade escorted Gretchen away, leaving the others standing in a tense silence.

"Delightful," Vulpes muttered. "I'm going back to bed."

Sandra stared into the rainy ocean, watching as the waves carried Cooper's mutilated body further and further from sight.

Harrison appeared beside her, planting a hand on the balcony and giving her an investigative look. "I didn't figure that you'd be the first to take the shot."

Sandra faced him. "Why's that?"

"Well... you're a young lady, y'don't strike me as a killer," Harrison said. "Guess I figured wrong."

Sandra released a cloud of breath, shivering as her adrenaline faded, the cold air creeping up on her again, rain dampening her face and arms.

"You think I did the right thing, shooting him?" Sandra asked.

"Eh... there's no such thing as the right thing," Harrison replied. "In the end... all of this, everything we do... none of it really matters."

Sandra stared at him. "That's kinda cryptic."

"Yeah, well... take it however you want. It's helped me get by."

Harrison wandered off. Everyone returned to their rooms, all except Sandra, who sat by the balcony, gazing into the storm. She sat alone for a few minutes. Then, someone approached her from behind.

"Hey," Grady said, plopping down beside her. "I heard a loud noise. What happened?"

"Eh... Cooper tried to hurt your sister, so... I had to shoot him," Sandra sighed. "Sorry it woke you, kiddo."

"Wow... you're pretty awesome," Grady grinned. "I hope I get as strong as you one day."

"You're plenty strong enough already. You just need the confidence to back it up, Bryan."

Grady blinked at her. "My... my name's Grady."

"I know," Sandra said quickly. "Sorry, it's just... you remind me of someone I used to know. I had this friend a few years back. He was a kid, about your age, and he was traumatized because his hometown was destroyed by a bunch of fire-breathing ants. It took him a while to get used to fighting, but he did it. He even joined the Brotherhood of Steel. He overcame his fears, just like you will."

Grady stared at her in awe. "Really? He became a soldier?"

"Yup," Sandra smirked. "He was just like you, young, a little shy, a little scared... but he joined the Brotherhood, and he even helped them win a war."

"Man... I wish I could be a soldier."

"Nah, you don't wanna be a soldier, kiddo," Sandra advised, thinking of Boone and frowning. "You can be strong without being a soldier. See, the problem with being a soldier is that you always have to follow orders, even if they order you to kill little kids or something. That's just a bad situation to be in."

"But your friend became a soldier, didn't he?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"Did Bryan ever have to kill little kids? Did they ever order him to do anything like that?"

"No... it's different," Sandra told him. "With most military organizations, they order you to do some questionable things... but Bryan joined a branch of the Brotherhood that was really good, really humane with a strong moral backbone. He joined the Lyons' Pride. The Lyons' Pride wasn't like the rest of the Brotherhood. They went out of their way to protect people all the time. They were a rarity among military factions. They were actually good people."

Grady gave her a confused look.

"I know... it's complicated," Sandra sighed. "That's why I don't get into politics..."

Grady hugged his legs, turning his attention to the storm.

"I wish you could stay with us," he murmured.

Sandra squinted at him. "What do you mean?"

"When we get back home... I wish you could stay with us," Grady said. "It's lonely out there..."

Sandra didn't reply. In truth, she didn't have a real plan for this journey's end; she simply wanted to get out of the Mojave, and she most assuredly succeeded in that. The Mojave might as well have been on another planet, considering the distance she put between herself and Nevada. Where ever this boat stopped, Sandra had vowed to make a new life there, and Gretchen's safe-and-sound Louisiana sounded like the perfect place to do so.

"I'm gonna try to get back to sleep, kiddo," Sandra said, reaching her feet. "You should go back to bed, too."

Grady waved her off, and the two of them separated, returning to their rooms. Nearly everyone had gone back to bed now, all except for Arcade and Gretchen, who were alone in Gretchen's room, Arcade kneeling in front of her and tending to the bullet wound.

"You're lucky," Arcade said. "It just grazed you. It's gonna hurt for a while, but you'll be fine."

He finished wiping the blood away and applying disinfectant, then began bandaging the injury.

"Appreciate it," Gretchen sighed. "You and your girlfriend have been more helpful than everyone else on this trip combined."

Arcade let out a laugh. "She's not my girlfriend."

Gretchen narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh... you two are still in _that_ stage. I getcha."

"Stage? What stage?"

"The _'I get hot and bothered around you but I'm too stupid to admit that I like you'_ stage."

"Oh... please," Arcade scoffed. "I'm a simple man. I have two stages; indifference, and getting laid. Nothing more, nothing less."

As he bandaged her side, Gretchen examined him closely.

"Have you ever been with a woman?" she asked. "Just curious. You seem... kinda..."

"Gay, I know," Arcade replied. "No, I've never been with a woman. It's not due to a lack of interest, really. I've found plenty of women attractive. But women tend to be slightly psychotic. Men are simpler. Much easier to deal with."

"All right, you got me there," Gretchen chuckled. "But... if you've never been with a woman, how do you know if they're crazy or not?"

"Because I've known people with women probems," Arcade said. "I ended up treating their woman wounds, too. When men hit women, we all know it's wrong... but if a woman hits a man, no one seems to care. I've always found that strange."

"Yeah, well... men aren't perfect either," Gretchen told him. "Believe me, I know."

"Yes... but I never had to worry about any of my old lovers hitting me in my sleep or locking me out of my home in the middle of the night. I never had to argue much, either."

"So... your old boyfriends were really nice people?"

"Yes."

"Then... where are they now?"

Arcade frowned at the floor. "All right... point taken. Men are simpler than women, but... they're also more of a flight risk. I'll give you that."

Gretchen nodded sadly. "Yeah. Ain't that the truth..."

"Well... try to keep that clean," Arcade advised, reaching his feet. "Don't let it get infected."

"Thank you."

"You're quite welcome. Goodnight."

Arcade left the room, his mind venturing into strange places now. He wondered what it would be like to be with a woman, how different it would be, how new and unfamiliar it would be. The thought of it was unsettling, but strangely exciting. Ever since he was a teenager, he knew he was gay, and that was that... but perhaps the reality of it was much more complicated. Perhaps he didn't just have an attraction to men because they were men; perhaps he was simply attracted to their simplicity, their simple ways of viewing the world, their innocent nature and their childlike dispositions. After all, people who possessed this sort of simplicity were quite a refreshing change of pace for him; he, Arcade Gannon, was was an intellectual, but his racing thoughts and outstanding intellect often felt like a heavy anchor weighing him down, keeping him chained to logic and cold truths. Simple people were free from that burden, and they had a sense of lightness and freedom that Arcade longed for. They constructed simple solutions to all problems, and they enjoyed even the smallest, most insignificant things in life in a way no one else could. Those qualities were as refreshing as they were delightful. Perhaps that was his attraction; he loved those kinds of people.

Arcade thought over this topic numerous times, standing outside of the bedroom, his hand resting on the door for nearly ten minutes before he finally dismissed the thoughts and stepped inside.

Vulpes was already sound asleep, and Sandra was staring up at the ceiling, looking thoughtful, her hands resting on her stomach and her fingers intertwined.

Arcade sat across from her. "Even out here in the middle of nowhere, we can't escape the need for hard justice, can we?"

Sandra let out a cloud of breath. "You know... when I first left the vault, it really bothered me. It scared the hell outta me, the way the world is. But after a while... it just became normal. Killing people just became a normal thing."

"It's a rough world," Arcade said, stretching out over his bed. "It's sad, but it's necessary sometimes. Sometimes... you just don't have a choice." He turned his head, meeting her eyes. "You all right?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. "We've shot people a million times before. It's no big deal."

The two of them were quiet for a moment.

Arcade watched her, expecting her to dwell on the incident with Cooper. But instead, she smiled.

"Mirelurk cakes," Sandra murmured.

Arcade took back. "Uh... what?"

"Mirelurk cakes," Sandra repeated, her grin widening. "Grady said that their home is in a swamp. That means we're gonna get to eat mirelurk cakes. I can't wait..."

"You just killed a man who was an acquaintance of ours, and you're thinking about mirelurk cakes?" Arcade laughed.

"I can't help it," Sandra said. "I'm a simple soul."

Arcade gave her a curious look, then gazed up at the ceiling.

"Yes..." he uttered. "I suppose you are."

They lay still until finally drifting back to sleep. Both of them expected to sleep well into the day, as they often did aboard this ship... but around four in the morning, Gretchen knocked on their door and stepped inside, waking them.

Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes sat upright groggily, all of them slightly irritated at being disturbed again. They met eyes with Gretchen, who was grinning.

"Wake up, you guys," she said, a note of excitement in her voice. "We finally made it home."

* * *

 _2277_

"Really? We made it?"

Sandra darted out of her sleeping quarters, lunging over the balcony and nearly slinging herself overboard. Charon coiled his hand around the back of her outfit, jerking her backward.

She leaned over the railing, watching as Point Lookout came into view. The dock was huge, and it led to a shopping area that must've been deserted for at least a hundred years. To the left was a ferris wheel, and far off in the distance, she was able to see a mansion sitting on a hillside, a cloud of smoke floating above its extensive rooftop. The area was surrounded by a cloud of fog, and she heard critters far off in the distance.

"It's so... swampy," Bryan observed.

"It's awesome," Sandra beamed.

"It's a shithole," Charon growled.

"All right, enjoy your trip," Tobar said. "Looks like everything's the way I left it around here... except the smoke from the Calvert place. But I'm sure it's nothing. There's a shop here that's still open if you make a right turn on the boardwalk, and if you keep heading north, just the slightest bit northeast, you'll find the commune I was talking about."

"That's where Nadine is," Sandra figured. "Thanks, Tobar."

"Don't mention it," Tobar replied with a salute. "You crazy kids enjoy yourselves."

Sandra darted down the dock, her friends following closely. She led them down the old tourist spot, which looked like it was once filled with life, now occupied only by clutter and abandoned popcorn cups. She rounded the first corner and found a woman behind a counter, accompanied by shelves full of merchandise and a protectron standing guard before her store.

For about ten minutes, Sandra bartered with the woman, incredibly excited to see the unfamiliar weaponry and the strange outfits. She purchased a green overcoat, much like Tobar's, and a swamp-ready outfit to wear underneath; a tanktop and a pair of shorts that had been cut along the thighs, leaving her legs exposed so she might wade through the swamps more easily.

When she finished shopping, she spun around and placed an old confederate hat on Charon's head. Charon simply glared at her, and she giggled in response.

"It looks perfect," Sandra determined. "It matches the color of your armor."

Charon growled incomprehensibly.

For a while, Sandra led them in circles, exploring the abandoned tourist spot. She raided an old bank and made off with some pre-war money, then found the dusty old motel down the street, searching all the rooms until she found the cleanest one available. She tossed her bag down and plopped down on the bed inside. She rolled over and covered herself with the blankets, sliding out of her merc adventurer outfit and changing into the swamp outfit she'd purchased.

"This'll be our room while we're here," Sandra said. "Ooo! We have to find the commune, that's right!"

In a flash, she was on her feet again, leading her friends out of the motel and away from the shops. Thrash the yao guai stayed behind, curling up on the bed beside Sandra's backpack.

"Slow down!" Bryan complained, sprinting behind her.

"Walk faster!" Sandra shouted in response.

The three of them marched through the damp grass, heading northeast as Tobar had instructed. After a while, Sandra's jog dwindled into a steady walk, as she was growing tired.

About half an hour later, a structure came into view. It was a small place, surrounded by a brick wall with only one building inside. Sandra stopped at the entrance, poking at the intercom outside and waiting for a response.

"Hellooooo?" Sandra yelled into the speaker. "Is Nadine in there? Her mother sent me to find her."

"Who lingers at the threshold of transcendence?" a voice replied.

Sandra gave the intercom a bizarre look. She turned to Charon and Bryan, who both shrugged.

"Lunatics," Charon determined. "I bet this place is a cult."

"Um..." Sandra leaned into the speaker again. "I'm looking for someone."

"If you seek a man, we cannot help you... but if you seek wisdom, you've arrived at your salvation," the voice replied.

Again, Sandra exchanged befuddled glances with her friends.

"Yeah... um... I'll join your cul-I mean, your enlightened society. I seek the wisdom of your people," Sandra said. "Can I come inside now?"

"What's this, you say? A humble traveler, seeking the guidance of our awakened minds? Truly, this is a glorious day," the voice responded. "If you seek our wisdom, you must prove yourself worthy before we allow you entry. You must awaken your mind, and prove yourself worthy to transcend!"

"Ooo... kay," Sandra sighed. "And how do I do that?"

"You must face the ritual of the mother seed," the voice informed.

"Sounds easy," Sandra shrugged. "I can do that."

"Stronger souls than you have tried... and lost their minds," the voice warned. "Venture west of the great bog, and there, you will find the mother of all punga fruit. She stands taller than a man... and her vines guide our future."

"Right..."

"Collect her seeds, and kneel before her wisdom. Only then will you be allowed entry to the gates of sanctuary."

"Seeds?" Sandra smirked. "That's all I have to do? Get some punga seeds? No problem."

She turned away from the gateway, facing her friends.

"All right... I guess we're going on a grocery run for these guys," Sandra figured. "Let's get moving."

Charon opened his mouth to reply, but the intercom cut him off.

"You must enter the bog _alone_ ," the voice told her. "Your friends may accompany you to the bog, but you must not take them inside. Everyone must complete the ritual by themselves."

"Whatever," Sandra replied nonchalantly. "It's just picking seeds. It's not like I'm gonna need an army to do that job."

"Mistress..." Charon growled severely. "There's probably a reason that they're not getting the seeds themselves. Have you thought of that?"

"Yeah, because they're lazy," Sandra said. "It's no big deal, Charon. We've dealt with worse."

"This place is weird..." Bryan murmured, glimpsing toward the swamps. "I feel like... this place is watching us."

"It's just because it's different from home," Sandra told him. "Culture shock. You'll get used to it."

"You're really gonna do this," Charon grumbled. "You're really gonna run all over the place just for some girl you never even met?"

"Why not," Sandra said. "We'll help Nadine get back home, and we'll keep some of the punga seeds for ourselves so we can sell 'em. It's a win-win. What's the harm?"

"The harm is, you don't know what the fuck you're walking into," Charon snapped. "The freak on the intercom said that people lose their minds doing this stupid ritual."

"He also said that the punga tree is a god," Sandra chuckled. "The dude is speaking in metaphors. It's all make-believe cult stuff. Don't take it all so seriously."

At that, Sandra walked off, beckoning them to follow. Charon and Bryan traded wary glances before following Sandra westward.

They spent nearly the entire day walking, jumping over huge puddles and avoiding the nearby trailers and their inhabitants. When night began to fall, Sandra was relieved to find a shack with a large OPEN sign out front. The three of them stopped at the shop, and Sandra purchased dinner for everyone before sitting on the porch alongside Charon and Bryan. She was carrying an armful of plastic-wrapped foods, three Nukacolas dangling from her fingers.

"So... the shopkeep said that the biggest food from these parts are these cake thingys," Sandra said, sitting beside Charon on the stairs and pulling out one of the small cakes. "Mirelurk cakes. I never bought them back home because they cost too much, but he just sold them to me for dirt cheap. Apparently mirelurk is the only thing to hunt around here, so it's cheaper."

She bit into it, savoring the taste and grinning.

"Holy shit... they're _amazing_ ," Sandra marveled, placing one in Bryan's hand. "Try it."

Bryan took a bite, then proceeded to inhale the whole thing in a few large bites.

Sandra handed one to Charon. Charon stared at her, and Sandra gave him a hopeful smile.

"Please?" she asked.

Charon sighed, taking the cake and snacking on it slowly.

"I should've left you guys at the motel," Sandra mumbled. "I didn't know it would take this long. I might be out all night, looking for those seeds."

"I don't care," Bryan smiled. "I'll stay out all night if we can get more mirelurk cakes out of it. These are the best."

"I'll make sure we stock up before we leave," Sandra told him. "You guys, I have a crazy idea. Once we find Nadine, you wanna go see if we can get that ferris wheel working? I would _love_ to ride that thing!"

"Hell yeah!" Bryan exclaimed.

Charon grunted something under his breath.

"I ordered you to have fun on this trip, remember, Charon?" Sandra sneered. "You'll ride the ferris wheel, and you'll have fun whether you like it or not."

Charon didn't reply, resting his head on the stairs' wooden railing.

"What's a matter?" Sandra asked him. "You're even grumpier than usual."

Charon rolled his head to the side, glaring into the wilderness. The swamp seemed twice as ominous in the dark, shrouded in a misty fog.

"I don't like this place," he rumbled. "Something about it feels... off."

Bryan stopped chewing instantly, following Charon's gaze into the trees and biting his lip nervously.

"It's just a swamp," Sandra stated. "You guys are worried over nothing."

Sandra glimpsed between the two of them, both of whom wore concerned visages. Bryan was often unsettled by things in the wasteland, and it was no surprise to her, but Charon was never afraid of anything; he never batted an eye in the face of death or danger. Now, however, he was staring off into the trees, his ghoulish face crinkled up in an expression Sandra had never seen on him before. Angst and anticipation.

It was unusual, to say the least. The swamp didn't have her worried at first, but now, with Charon looking almost anxious about the journey ahead, she felt an uncomfortable twist in her stomach.

"What is it?" Sandra whispered. "Charon... what makes you think something's wrong with the swamp?"

Charon hesitated for a moment before answering, his milky eyes still lost in the trees and fog. "Not sure. It's not like the Capital, when we're waiting for mutants or molerats to pop out. It feels different... like..."

He sat fully upright and straightened out, examining the swamp more intently.

"Like... it's not what's _inside_ the swamp that's dangerous," he concluded. "It's the swamp itself."

"Yeah..." Bryan uttered, repressing a shudder. "It feels like the swamp is alive or something."

"Well... technically, it is. It's made of trees, and there's wildlife in there," Sandra said. "Plus, we saw a bunch of trailers, so there's probably people living there too. That's why it seems alive."

"It's not that," Charon mumbled. "It's something else. I can't put my finger on it, but it's..."

"Okay, I hate this," Bryan stuttered. "Let's go back to the motel. Forget the stupid seeds."

"But I have to find Nadine, and I have to get into the commune to do that," Sandra replied. "Come on, Bryan. It's a foggy swamp at nighttime. Of course it looks spooky. It doesn't mean anything."

Even as the words left her lips, Sandra found herself feeling uneasy as well, and she didn't believe what she said, not entirely. Charon was the man who slaughtered mutants and monsters without the slightest hint of fear; yet here he was, staring at the swamp as if it was a more formidable enemy than a deathclaw. Despite how she felt about the swamp, seeing Charon unnerved was enough to put her on edge.

Still, she finished off her dinner and stood, motioning for them to follow. They were simply being paranoid, she figured; this swamp might've been home to mirelurks, but it wasn't any more dangerous than anywhere else in the wasteland. Whatever was out there, they could handle it.

"Mistress."

Sandra tried to continue the journey, hoping her friends would simply follow her away from the old shop, but Bryan didn't move, and Charon clasped a hand around her wrist, halting her midstep.

Sandra gave him a questioning stare.

Charon let out a frustrated sigh. "This is a bad idea. I think the kid has the right idea. It's not worth it just for a couple of seeds."

"Yeah, Sandra. Tobar sells that punga stuff, doesn't he?" Bryan interjected. "Can't we just buy the seeds off him? We don't have to go into the swamp."

"You guys... I'm not gonna be scared of a stupid swamp," Sandra told them. "If you wanna stay here, then go ahead. Here." She pulled out a few caps and placed them in Bryan's hand. "Tell the shopkeep that you're gonna spend the night on his couch. Give him a few caps for the night, and just wait here. I'll be back."

"Sandra..." Bryan pleaded. "If you leave, you might not come back."

"Bryan, I killed all the ants that destroyed your home," Sandra reminded him. "I killed all the mutants in the old memorial, and I killed all the people who tried to kill us in the city. Didn't I?"

Bryan nodded glumly.

"So stop worrying," Sandra ordered. "I can take care of myself. Everything's gonna be fine. Just go inside and wait for me to get back."

Bryan stared at the caps in his hand for a moment, then turned and wandered into the shack, kicking the door shut behind him.

Sandra then turned to Charon. "You can stay here too, if you want. I'm supposed to go alone, anyway."

Charon's teeth ground together. "You... are a fucking idiot."

Sandra smirked at him. "At least you're not asking permission to speak your mind anymore. Glad we're getting somewhere. So, are you staying here or not?"

Charon thought for a moment. "My contract states that I'm to assist you in combat, and this particular situation might bring about the need for my assistance. Contractually... I have to go with you."

"Come on then, Grumpula. Let's get moving."

Charon followed her into the darkness, his eyes cautiously scanning the environment around them. Really, his contract didn't obligate him to anticipate any need for combat that might arise; he could have stayed behind if he wanted to. But something was wrong with this swamp, something unknowable, something he couldn't quite put his finger on... and if Sandra wandered off alone in this place, he knew the idiot would get herself killed.

* * *

 _2282_

Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes gathered their belongings and prepared to leave the ship for the first time in months. As they dressed themselves and strapped on their bags, Sandra formed a smile; she could only imagine what this place would be like. Gretchen said it was the safest place she'd ever been, where hunters sold meat at the markets and every day was spent fishing or playing in the water, and everyone lived peacefully among the undisturbed community, with no raiders, no military, and no Legion threatening the security of their peaceful, happy lives. Gretchen had been talking highly about the place for months, and Sandra could hardly believe such a place existed in the world... but now, they were here. Now, they'd have a chance at a real, peaceful life, far from the bounty hunters and power players that wanted to see her and her friends dead.

"This is it," Sandra beamed at her friends. "I can't wait."

"Don't get your hopes up," Vulpes told her. "It's not like you should expect to walk into a paradise. It may be free from conflict, but it's still a murky old swamp. I doubt it's anything glamorous."

"It might not be Heaven, but at least it's safe," Arcade said. "That's all we need. Safety."

"Sounds delightfully dull," Vulpes grumped.

"Dull is better than dead," Sandra told him. "Come on. Let's see this place."

The three of them left their quarters and headed to the bottom floor, and Sandra was surprised to see that the ship was now enshrouded with fog, as was the river and the land surrounding. The darkness of the night seemed to have doubled, no stars visible above and no light visible anywhere on land. When Sandra reached the docks, she stopped alongside Gretchen, Grady, Harrison, Emily, and Jerry, all of whom were staring into the foggy trees with rapt enthrallment.

"This doesn't exactly look like the 'safe place' you've been talking about for months," Emily remarked, turning to Gretchen. "Seriously, this is where you live? It looks like it's freaking haunted or some shit."

"H-haunted?" Jerry stammered, stepping behind Emily.

"It ain't haunted," Gretchen laughed. "It's just a touch of bad weather. It'll clear up after dawn, I'm sure. Come on, you guys. To Grandmother's house we go."

Gretchen began leading everyone across the dock, toward the swamp.

Sandra traded eyes with Arcade and Vulpes, both of whom looked noticeably put off by their environment. Hesitantly, they followed the others onto the damp landscape. The group headed toward the only building in sight, an abandoned gas station along the side of the broken road. They all stopped in the parking lot for a moment as Gretchen examined the area, mapping out the route in her mind.

Sandra peered around, her eyes landing on old man Harrison, who was glaring rather fixedly into the swamp.

"What're you staring at?" Sandra asked him.

Harrison let out a low grumble, his stare lost in the fog.

"Doesn't feel right," he murmured. "This place... it don't feel right. I can hear it... I can _feel_ it."

"Feel what?"

"The swamp," Harrison said. "The swamp... it's alive."

Then, it happened; the twist in her stomach, the look of worry, the familiar sensation of oncoming dread from five years ago. Sandra felt a sudden strike of fear shoot down her spine. She stared at Harrison as if she'd never seen anything quite like him before.

Harrison had that look strewn across his wrinkled face - the same look Charon had years ago, an expression of anticipation.

Her heart leaping into her throat, Sandra stepped back, bumping into Arcade as she stifled a gasp. Now, she was staring into the swamp as well, a fearful wave of de-ja-vu washing over her.

"Sandra, what's wrong?" Arcade asked.

Sandra gulped, eyes following the mounds of fog as they floated beneath the trees, carressing the landscape with their mystery.

"It's happening again," she whispered. "It's happening all over again."


	13. Then and There, Here and Now III

_2277_

For a while, Sandra and Charon marched through the wet grass without speaking. They ventured through the swamp, their legs sinking into the water, reaching up to their shins. Occasionally, they would pass by peculiar totem poles or strings of dolls hanging from trees, which told Sandra that they were on the right path, following the tribals' trail into the bog.

At long last, they reached the end of the totem poles and dangling dolls. Before them was a structure of rocks and moss with an opening in the middle, a curtain of vines hanging over it. Above the opening, a rickety wooden sign hung crookedly, which read **BOG**.

Sandra stopped and turned to Charon. "I won't be long. Just make sure nothing follows me in there, okay?"

Charon gave her a long, desdainful stare. "You don't actually have to go in there alone. You know that, right?"

"They might have someone watching me right now," Sandra replied, glimpsing around the trees. "I don't wanna break their rules, just in case they're watching. I won't get into the commune if I break the rules."

Charon let out a raspy, irritable breath. "This is stupid."

"Yeah, but we get some free fruit out of it," Sandra laughed, smacking his arm. "I'll be out soon, okay?"

At that, Sandra shifted the vines aside and stepped through the opening, vanishing from Charon's sight.

For a while, Charon glared at the bog's opening, folding his arms and grinding his fingernails on the arms of his leather armor. He wasn't sure how long he stood rooted to the spot, staring at the bog. Every few minutes, he'd spin around and survey the environment, then return his attention to the bog entrance. After about half an hour, he considered following after her, but decided against it.

He stood stock still for God knows how long, waiting for Sandra to return. When he turned to check the surroundings again, he caught a glint of movement from the corner of his eye, a familiar green overcoat moving through the trees, far away, headed toward the bog. The man in the coat wore a fishing hat.

"Tobar," Charon grumbled.

Now it made sense. Tobar was the one who suggested that Sandra visit the commune in search of Nadine. Tobar was the one selling punga fruit, the fruit of the land that all the locals seemed obsessed with. Charon wasn't sure how, exactly, but Tobar was wrapped up in the events of Point Lookout and its insane inhabitants; for some reason or another, Tobar wanted Sandra to come here, and now he was about to play his role in the plan, whatever that role might be.

Charon watched in silence as Tobar crawled into the bog from afar. What connection did Tobar have with the local tribals and their mother seed ritual, he wondered? What was Tobar's role in this whole thing? And whatever it was... how would it affect Sandra?

"Fuck."

Charon prepared his combat shotgun and stepped through the bog's opening, marching through the swamp with a pep in his step.

* * *

At first, the journey was easy.

Sandra waded through the swamp, carrying her scoped 44 and glancing around cautiously, following the strings of dolls through the shallow water and the dirt trails on land.

The longer she walked, the more nervous she became; the fog blurred her vision nearly every direction she looked. After about ten minutes of walking, she spotted a glint of movement in the water.

Suddenly, a beast shot out of the water only yards away, raising its claws and scurrying toward her.

"Holy SHIT!"

BANG.

Sandra fired off a shot on reflex, and the bullet zipped through the mirelurk's face. The creature's tiny head exploded into a burst of green goo before its crablike carcass fell motionlessly into the water.

Sandra paused for a moment, regaining her composure and taking in a deep breath. "O... okay. Mirelurks. Mirelurks aren't so bad..."

Gulping, she continued onward, trying to tread through the water as quietly as possible. Soon after, the trail of hanging dolls led her to another dirt trail, the final one.

Sandra marched up the hill, stepping under vines and stopping in a small clearing. Tiny lights hung from the mother punga tree's tallest branches, and vines draped down over the earth, punga fruit growing at the base of the squishy tree in plenty. Oddly, this clearing seemed to have a thicker fog than anywhere else.

Sandra knelt and plucked one of the punga plants, splitting it open and checking the inside, which was full of seeds.

"Good," she muttered, grabbing as many punga plants as she could and stuffing them into the satchel on her side.

Just then, a blueish gas erupted from the heart of the tree, spreading through the fog and sweeping across the clearing. Sandra jolted back in shock, the mysterious gas slithering up her nose and scratching the back of her throat, burning her eyes.

She tried to stand, hoping to run from the clearing, but her head began to spin; she hit the ground, succumbing to a coughing fit.

"Cha..." Sandra rasped, tears streaming down her face.

After coughing for nearly five minutes, Sandra finally managed to breathe again, slowly sitting upright, her head as light as a feather, the swamp around her glowing an ominous blue.

 _Need to get out. Need to go. Now._

Sandra stumbled out of the clearing, splashing into the swamp water, the world seeming to shift beneath her feet. Trying to ignore the odd discoloration of the world, Sandra wandered crookedly across the swamp, the water staining the bottom of her cut shorts. She prayed that no mirelurks would ambush her on her way out.

As she walked, panting and stumbling, Sandra's eyes absorbed the swamp scenery; it didn't look dark and empty, not anymore. Now, it shone with mysterious blue light, the water shining like liquid crystal, the trees pulsating with life in a way no plant should.

 _They were right. The swamp is alive._

"Can't be," Sandra gasped, tripping over a vine and smacking into the water.

She quickly gathered herself and climbed on a small patch of land, right in the center of the swamp, sitting on the dirt and hugging her legs.

"It can't be alive, that's just stupid," she sputtered, her eyes darting around the swamp, the blue trees feeling as if they were closing in on her. "That's just stupid... that's just stupid..."

The trees leaned dangerously close, so close that Sandra was somehow able to hear them breathe. She shot bolt upright and dashed away, splashing into the water and distancing herself from the sentient trees.

 _Gotta find Charon. I need Charon. Find Charon._

Sandra wheeled around and moved through the water, vines stringing down from above, dropping Nukacola Quantums all around her.

For a split second, her fear subsided, watching as the glowing blue bottles fell all around her. Nukacola was her favorite drink. Perhaps the swamp wasn't out to get her after all.

Just when Sandra bent down to retrieve one, the bottle exploded with the force of a frag grenade, the light nearly blinding her.

Sandra shrieked and leaped backward, landing in the water, her body submerged up to her chest.

"Stop it," she scolded the swamp. "STOP IT!"

Just then, a series of bobbleheads emerged from behind the trees. They were the vault-themed bobble heads, the ones her father used to keep on his desk in the clinic... but they were moving, crawling up the rocks and scurrying around like tiny dwarves.

Sandra's breath cut thin.

The bobbleheads took turns pointing and laughing at her.

"Look at that loser!" one said.

"Blehk. If I had a kid who looked like that, I'd abandon it too," another remarked.

"Lost in a post-apocalyptic swamp, stranded, mommy's dead, daddy's gone, no friends anywhere in the world... yeah, you're not exactly blessed," the nearest bobblehead mocked. "Then again, why would you be? You're nobody important. Go back to the vault and let Butch shake some more of your lunch money outta your pockets, loser!"

The others laughed, high-pitched squeaky laughs.

"F... fuck you," Sandra sputtered weakly. "I have friends... they're..."

"Standing outside, waiting for you to die?" one of the bobbleheads said. "Come on, Bryan wanted to stay in Rivet City with his aunt, but you dragged him back out into the wasteland just because you're too selfish to let him go. And Charon? Ha! You have him under contract! Do you really think he's sticking around because he _cares_? Who in the world would care about a worthless waste of space like _you_? He's standing outside, waiting for you to die so he can finally have his freedom. Wake up and smell the Nukacola, stupid."

"No..." Sandra cradled her head, snapping her eyes shut. "No... Charon... Bryan... Dad... Sarah... Burke... Gob... Amata..."

"They all hate you, you know that, right?" one of the bobbleheads teased. "Charon's not your friend, he's your _slave_. Bryan's not your friend, he's a stray orphan that never wanted anything to do with you. You left Amata to deal with the chaos in the vault, and Sarah lost one of her initiates because you blundered in and screwed up their battle plan! Gob's still trapped in that saloon because of you, and your father? Whew, don't even get me _started_ on your father!"

"Shut up!" Sandra bellowed. "SHUT UP!"

"You think because Mr. Burke tried to hook up with you at Tennpenny Tower, he actually cares about you? He's a sleazy pervert, kid. Grow up," the bobblehead snarled. "You know how your mother died? She died because _you_ killed her. Giving birth to you was too much strain on her. Your father never forgave you for that. Why do you think he left you behind? Oh, he's hated you all your life, but he was too kind to show it..."

Sandra let out a wailing cream, firing her revolver into the crowd of bobbleheads. The bobbleheads vanished into thin air, and a silence fell.

 _I need Charon. Find Charon. Fuck this place. Find Charon..._

Sandra staggered to her feet, trying to blink her vision straight and failing. She meandered through the swamp, paying no mind to the falling Nuka bottles and the distant laughter of the bobbleheads in the forest.

As she walked, her pace quickened; the ground seemed to morph, the sky beneath her rather than overhead, the trees backwards and upside-down, the ground hovering over her head. She ran across the swamp, hoping to reach another patch of land before the sky under her feet gave away.

Sandra stopped on another hill, facing a table in the clearing, with balloons, birthday hats, and a heart monitor, which had flatlined. No... it wasn't a table. It was a hospital bed. The carcass on the bed was vaguely recognizeable, though Sandra couldn't place who it was.

Just then, she looked up, seeing the doctor on the other side of the bed.

Sandra gasped. "Dad!"

The doctor - her father - gave her a stern look, almost hateful, leaning on the bed, tears staining his cheeks. Sandra backed away; that expression, that look of disgust and apprehension... her father never looked at her like that before now. His eyes narrowed at her accusingly, and Sandra began to cry.

"I didn't mean to..." she sputtered, glimpsing at the carcass. "I didn't mean to... I didn't..."

"She died so you could live," James growled in a voice that didn't belong to him. "And look at what you're doing with your life. What a damn waste."

Sandra shook her head, swallowing a sob. Then, as she shared a staring contest with her father, the sadness began to dissipate, a wave of anger taking its place. What right did he have to judge her? He abandoned her alone in the vault. It wasn't her fault that her mother died.

In fact, even if her father _did_ hold a grudge for his wife's death, James would _never_ look at her the way he was now.

Summoning a sense of strength, Sandra aimed the barrel of her revolver at her father's head.

"Liar," she hissed. "You're a fucking liar. You're not my father... and I haven't done a damn thing wrong. Fuck your swamp, fuck your stupid bobbleheads, and _fuck you_!"

She fired off a shot, and the illusion of her father shattered and faded away.

For a moment, things were quiet. Sandra let out a slow, calming breath.

"Sheesh." A bobblehead poked its head out from behind a tree. "Can't tell reality apart from fantasy, can you? Nineteen years old, and you're still hung up on mommy and daddy issues? You're pathetic. Just kill yourself right now, because you'll never make it in the real world. You just can't let things go."

Sandra fired her last shot, making the bobblehead vanish.

She marched over the clearing and stepped through the water again, trying not to look at the breathing blue trees.

 _Just need to get out. Just need to find Charon._

Suddenly, something exploded out of the water beside her, its massive body lunging at her.

Sandra stepped aside, expecting the illusion to vanish, but this was no illusion; the mirelurk snapped one of its claws around her arm, breaking the skin and making blood squirt across its claw.

Sandra let out a piercing scream, kicking and punching the beast with all her might. Finally, she landed a hard punch on the creature's face, her fist sinking into its soft, disgusting head. She pulled back a slime-covered hand, and the mirelurk fell dead in the water.

Sandra stumbled away, her arm screaming in pain, blood pouring down to her fingertips and staining the inside of her swamp coat. Still, she pressed on, biting her lip as hot tears formed in her eyes, her arm pulsating terribly.

Down the swamp, she spotted something impossible.

It was the bomb, the bomb from Megaton, sitting in the middle of the swamp, half-buried. A familiar suited man was leaning on it, his arms folded, his eyes watching her pensively from beneath the rim of his hat.

"Mr... Burke...?" Sandra panted, her head beginning to spin.

"Oh, my dear... look at you," the suited man said with an unsettlingly strange voice, one that was even creepier than the real Mr. Burke's. "Beaten all to hell, broken to the mind and the bone. You really made an impact on me the day we met, you know that? But it didn't do much good."

"What're... you...?" Sandra tried to ask, though her consciousness was trying to abandon her.

"This bomb... you swayed me, convinced me not to detonate it," he said, tapping on the bomb's exterior. "But you never actually got around to disarming it, did you? Now everyone in Megaton will pay the price."

He let out a low, sneering laugh.

Sandra used all her strength to raise her gun, trying to shoot the illusion away, but the chamber was empty. She fell to her knees, glaring into the gun and crying madly, hunched in the murky water and feeling as if her life was about to fade away.

With a final burst of energy, she threw her head back and screamed as loud as she could.

"CHAROOOOOOON!"

Sandra slumped backward, falling to the wet dirt, everything fading black.

Time passed.

For a while, Sandra lay motionless in the dirt, unconscious, the punga gas lulling her into a deep sedation.

Tobar emerged from a collection of weeping willows, pushing the vines out of his path and approaching Sandra. He knelt beside her, gently removing her bangs from her face and pulling an old scalpel from his inner pocket.

"There we go... just stay asleep," he whispered, pressing the blade against her head. "Just stay asleep... you won't feel a thing..."

"Stop it..." Sandra moaned. "Charon... come... to... this is..."

"Easy, now," Tobar said softly. "Don't try to wake up just yet."

Sandra's eyes drifted open, spotting Tobar, hunched over her with a blade in his hand.

Instantly, panic set in; Sandra squirmed and kicked, trying desperately to get away. Tobar threw himself over her, restraining by the arms and pinning her wrists to the ground.

"Stop it!" he screamed. "You're making this more difficult than it has to be!"

Sandra broke away, punching and thrashing as Tobar tried his best to restrain her again. Her cries became hysterical, and the trees had turned blue again, leaning over them, breathing and reaching down with their branches...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH STOP IT! STOP IIIIIT!"

Sandra lost herself amidst the panic, shielding herself with her arms and sobbing madly into her jacket.

Tobar climbed over her, readying the scalpel-

"Hey," a raspy voice called out.

Tobar whipped around.

BANG.

 _"Agh!"_

The scalpel flew from his hand, his arm snapping under the pressure of a 12 gauge round, blood splattering across his jacket. Tobar yelled, leaping to his feet and scrambling away from the hysteric girl.

Charon strode through the water, his rotting face twisted up in fury, his eyes blazing a fiery blue. He fired off another shot.

Tobar croaked as the bullet hit him squarely in the stomach; he fell to the water, gaping and choking as the swamp water faded crimson around him.

"Aw, what's the matter," Charon growled devilishly, meeting his eyes and kneeling in front of him. _"Can't stand the sight of your own blood?"_

At that, Charon flipped the combat knife from his belt and thrust it into Tobar's neck, blood saturating both the blade and his hand. Tobar's eyes tore open, his jaw agape, sputtering and gagging as Charon ripped the blade out of him.

Charon kicked Tobar away, his dying body sent adrift down the swamp, twitching and convulsing until the life finally left him.

Sandra had backed into a tree stump, her head spinning and her vision screwed up, the blue trees reaching out to her.

Charon calmly turned away from the corpse, sliding his knife back into its sheath and approaching Sandra.

"Mistress," he said. "Sorry. I couldn't obey your order. I saw Tobar come in here, and I figured something was..."

Charon stopped, squinting at her. Sandra was trembling like a leaf and soaked to the bone, glimpsing fearfully up at the trees as a river of blood poured down her arm.

"You're injured," Charon realized. "Let me see."

He knelt and tried to reach out to her, but Sandra shrieked and backed away.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Charon grouched. "Mistress, it's me. It's Charon."

Sandra clamped her arms over her head, desperate to erase the sight of him from her mind. She couldn't take it anymore; she didn't want to see an illusion of Charon, telling her how worthless she was and how he didn't care about her at all. No, she would stay here, hiding beneath her jacket until all the visions faded away.

Charon rolled his eyes. "For fuck's sake... you're bleeding out. Let me fix it before you croak."

He reached out his arm, grasping Sandra's wrist and making her jump. Sandra took in a sharp breath and tried to jerk away, but Charon didn't release her.

"Stop it," he growled. "What the hell's wrong with you? Did you snort some punga powder or some shit?"

"STOP IT!" Sandra exploded, bursting into tears again, her eyes jumping from tree to tree. "It's alive! The swamp-"

"No, it's not," Charon said firmly. "Stop fighting me. Let me see your arm."

"No! it's... I can't-!"

"Stop it!"

"NO! YOU'RE-NOT-REAL!"

"Oh yeah?!" Charon challenged, snatching both of her arms and pinning them behind her. "If I wasn't real, could I do this?!"

Sandra screamed and struggled, and Charon became fed up; he trapped her in a bearlike embrace, holding her still as she cried and rambled incomprehensibly into his chest.

"Just shut up," Charon said. "You're fine now. I'm here now."

"The trees..." Sandra breathed, her tears staining his leather.

"They're just trees," Charon replied, squeezing her tighter. "Stop it. You're fine."

Sandra continued to cry, and Charon felt an uncomfortable knot form in his stomach as he sat on his knees, holding her. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to handle this.

He took in a deep breath, leaned back, and met her eyes.

"Mirelurk cakes," Charon said.

Sandra's cries dwindled into a faint series of shaking breaths, her eyes wet and shining blue, peering up at him.

Charon smirked. "I loved 'em. Let's get us some more. Eh?"

Oddly, the blue trees and the crystal water weren't the focus of her attention now; Sandra's eyes bled into his, and she felt his arms around her, _felt_ them, warm and rough to the touch. He was as real as ever.

Sandra wrapped her arms around him, melting into his chest and clinging onto him for dear life. Charon held her, resting his chin on her head.

"Ferris wheel..." she murmured.

Charon let out a laugh. "Yeah, fine, we'll ride the stupid ferris wheel. Whatever you want, Mistress."

At last, Sandra smiled, a warm sense of security rushing through her, making the panic vanish without a trace. In his arms, she felt safer than anywhere else in the world, though the blood loss was beginning to take a toll on her, her eyelids growing heavy and her thoughts flickering out like lights.

Sandra fell unconscious in his embrace, and she knew no more.

* * *

 _2282_

It was just as she remembered, fog sweeping across the world and floating ominously above the swamp, the trees beckoning them with their branches and vines, waiting for some unsuspecting travelers to wander into their dark entrapment.

Sandra's hands balled into fists as she glared into the swamp, standing in the parking lot of a vacant gas station alongside her traveling companions, her nails digging into her palms.

"Sandra," Arcade whispered. "What's the matter?"

"It's happening again," Sandra mumbled.

Arcade gave her an odd look. "What is?"

"I..." Sandra paused. "I just... I don't think we should go in there."

"We traveled all this way," Vulpes grumbled. "We'd damn well better reach our destination. I'm not standing out here all night."

"I don't know... maybe she's right," Jerry said fearfully. "It feels like the swamp is... _looking_ at us."

"Don't say that," Sandra snapped, glaring at Jerry. "Please... _don't_ say that."

Jerry gulped, tugging on Emily's leather vest. Emily spun around and shot him an annoyed look.

"You want to, uh..." Jerry muttered. "You wanna go back to the boat, me and you? We... we'll be safer there."

"No way, you little runt," Emily laughed. "Just because you're about to piss yourself doesn't mean I'm gonna be scared of a stupid swamp. I say we charge in and kill everything in our path."

"You guys are worried over nothing," Gretchen giggled. "There's not gonna _be_ anything in our path. Trust me. This is one of the safest places in the world."

"Gretchen," Sandra said warningly, pushing her way to the front and facing her. "Please, listen to me... we _can't_ go in there."

"Why not?" Gretchen laughed.

Sandra's mouth fell open, but no words came out. How could she explain it? What could she say? That the last time she visited a post-apocalyptic swamp, the trees came to life and the ghosts of her past began to haunt her? Sandra never really figured out how much of her experience in Point Lookout was a hallucination, and how much of it was real... but one thing was for certain. The swamp most assuredly _was_ alive in some way, and the last time this happened, the swamp nearly killed her.

"You don't hear it? You don't feel it?" Sandra asked, pointing to the swamp. "There's something alive in there, and it's waiting to kill us. There's something wrong with this place, Gretchen. I don't know how it was when you left, but it's not the same way now. Something's changed here. I can feel it."

"How do you know? You've never even been here before."

"Yes I have! Last time I was here, the swamp got inside my head and..."

Sandra trailed off, biting her lip and shaking her head.

"No," she corrected herself. "I haven't been here. I haven't been to Louisiana. But I've been through this before. The swamp is... there's something wrong with it. Just like last time."

"Sabre..." Grady whimpered.

"All right, look," Gretchen said firmly. "You've obviously dealt with something traumatic, and I guess the swamp is triggering it somehow... but you're scaring Grady for no reason. This is my home. I know this place like the back of my hand, and I'm telling you, there is _nothing_ out there."

Sandra and Gretchen glared daggers at each other.

"All right... are we good, everyone?" Gretchen asked, trading eyes with the others. "If anyone else has a problem, you're free to hang back at the boat. But I'm going home."

Gretchen began leading Grady and Vandal toward a dirt trail, stretching off into the swamp. Harrison grumbled and followed her, followed by Emily, and Jerry let out a desdainful sigh before joining them.

Sandra swapped glances with her friends.

"Sandra... if you don't feel comfortable going into the swamp, we can stay at the boat," Arcade suggested. "I mean... we've pretty much done our part already. We can wait in the boat until daylight. I'm sure Gretchen won't mind."

Sandra considered this, but her eyes were fixed on the group ahead, the new friends she'd made on the journey. They were wandering into the darkness, closer and closer to the entrapping vines that hung from the canopies of the swamp.

"They'll die," Sandra uttered. "They'll die if they go alone."

"Their safety isn't our problem," Vulpes stated. "Just make up your mind. Are we going, or staying behind? Whichever it is, I'd like to get it over with. We're a bit exposed out here."

Sandra gulped, staring into the swamp and surpressing a shudder.

Arcade studied her. "Sandra... what makes you so sure that something's wrong with the swamp?"

Sandra met his eyes, trying to think of an answer and drawing a blank, even though she'd asked Charon that very same question five years ago. What was his response? How did Charon reply? She couldn't remember.

She watched as the group drifted further from eyeshot, feeling a rising anxiety. She couldn't remember a time when she felt this scared, this terrified, as if her worst memories were coming to life before her eyes. She left the Mojave in the hopes that this terrible feeling would be left behind in the desert somewhere, but no matter where she went, somehow, the past always found a way to haunt her.

Taking in a deep breath, Sandra stared down at the combat shotgun in her hands, her eyes scanning over it. Five years ago on the day of the funeral, she'd carved a name into the side. She ran her thumb over the enscription, which read; _Charon._

This gun protected her last time, and it would do the same now.

Sandra lifted the gun and kissed it, then broke into a run to catch up with the others. Arcade and Vulpes followed suit.


	14. Letting Go

As the gang ventured further into the swamp, the air became chillier.

Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes remained in the center while Emily and Jerry walked at the back. Gretchen, Grady, and Vandal were in the lead, closely guarded by Harrison and his rifle.

Sandra glimpsed around nervously, eyeing the vines and feeling as if there were eyes staring back at her from the darkness.

"Stay with me," she whispered, holding her gun close. "Stay with me... Charon... stay with me..."

Arcade gave her a peculiar look.

"Whoa!" Jerry yelled, startling everyone. "What was that?!"

He jumped around anxiously, holding up his handgun and pointing it in several directions. Everyone looked around, but no one saw a thing.

"Oh... must've been my imagination," Jerry sighed.

"Great. Thanks for the heart attack..." Emily snarled at him.

As they walked, Harrison pulled out a small book, holding his rifle by his side and flipping through the pages as they marched. Gretchen remained in front, scanning over the environment.

"Y'know," Emily said slyly, slipping away from Jerry and joining by Vulpes's side. "If there is something evil in the swamp, I have a feeling you'd put up the best fight. Aside from me, that is."

Vulpes glared at her. "Meaning?"

"Well... your friend tells me you used to be a tribal," Emily said. "But now... you're dressed all fancy in a suit and tie. You got soft after you left your tribe, didn't you? I bet I'm a better fighter. Cause, y'know... I never let myself get soft. Not like you have."

Vulpes smirked. "You could scarcely wrap your mind around the things I'm capable of, woman."

"Yeah?" Emily grinned, running a finger up his arm. "You should prove that to me sometime."

"Oh, good lord..." Arcade quickened his pace, distancing himself from Emily and Vulpes.

Sandra wasn't paying them any mind; her focus was on the swamp, waiting and watching for anything that might spring out. She didn't acknowledge anyone around her until Jerry tapped her on the shoulder, nearly making her jump from her skin.

"What?" Sandra whisper-yelled.

Jerry glanced over his shoulder, back at Emily and Vulpes. "I think she likes your friend."

Sandra blinked. "Yeah? So what?"

Jerry stared glumly down at the dirt trail.

"Oh..." Sandra breathed. "You really like her, don't you?"

"Yeah, but... she doesn't even know I exist," Jerry whispered. "Why? Why doesn't she like me?"

"Well, she's a Khan," Sandra shrugged. "She probably likes tough guys. Guys like Vulpes."

"Dammit. Why are girls like that?" Jerry sighed. "No one ever likes the nice guy..."

"Oh, I don't know," Sandra muttered, stealing a glimpse of Arcade. "Some people do."

"Well... what kind of guys do you like?" Jerry inquired. "How do girls think?"

"Jerry, we could've talked about this on the boat..."

"Just help me out with this, Sandra. Please? I'm totally clueless."

"What am I, Cupid? I'm not the most romantic girl in the world, Jerry. I don't know about this stuff."

"But you're a girl. You know how girls think. Plus, you're kind of a tough girl, just like she is. Help me get inside her head. What kind of guys do you like? What am I doing wrong?"

Sandra swallowed a groan, glancing around and making sure no one was close enough to overhear. What kind of guys did she like? She never gave it much thought. She loved Charon's brute force and overprotective nature, and she loved Arcade's compassion and vision for mending the world around him. If Arcade and Charon had anything in common, it was their protectiveness. Plus, Vulpes had a good sense of brute force too, much like Charon did...

"I really can't say," Sandra mumbled, her mind mulling over the three men. "I guess... if you could combine sensitivity with protectiveness, then you'd have a good guy to go out with. Someone who honestly cares about you, and they're compassionate to some extent, but they're willing to fight for you too. I mean... I wouldn't want him to take _all_ the blows for me. It's only fair if I'm willing to protect him too, y'know? But if they're willing to risk themselves for you... then you know they're something special."

"So... I have to be the nice guy _and_ the tough guy?" Jerry asked. "I have to be sensitive and understanding, but I have to protect her too?"

"Jerry... there's no formula to this," Sandra sighed. "You can't just concoct a plan and win her over. You have to be willing to do anything for her, and she has to feel the same way about you. It's not some white-knight bullshit, it's just an even trade. If you don't bring an equal amount of shit to the table, then the relationship will never work out."

Jerry frowned sadly at her.

"Be honest," he mumbled. "Do you think I have a chance at all with Emily?"

Sandra gave him a solemn look. "Honestly? I... really don't think so. You two are from two different worlds. She doesn't seem to care about you at all, and... no offense, but... I don't think you'd put your life on the line for her, either."

"Sheesh, why does it keep coming back to that?" Jerry asked, frustrated. "Giving sacrifice, risking yourself for them, protecting them... why does that have to be part of it?"

"Because we live in a tough world, Jerry, and the only way you'll know for sure that someone cares about you is if they're willing to protect you from the dangers out here. Trust me, I know. She wouldn't do that for you, and you wouldn't do that for her either. So, there's your answer. Just let it go."

Jerry stared down at his feet as he walked, looking defeated. He wandered away from her, walking along the edge of the trail and remaining distant from everyone. Sandra stared at him for a moment, then looked away. She couldn't feel guilty about anything she'd said; after all, she knew what it was like to be loved, and she also knew what it was like to be cast aside. There was a time when she'd do anything for Charon, and she felt the same way about her new friends now. She couldn't say the same for Emily and Jerry, and that alone crushed any chance they'd have of starting a relationship, hands down.

Sandra glanced behind her at Arcade and Vulpes, then faced the front again. She thought of all the times the three of them threw themselves into danger for the sake of one another, even though Arcade and Vulpes still seemed to hate each other. It was a strange chemistry that the three of them had, but it was something special nonetheless.

Arcade had saved her life numerous times, and surprisingly, Vulpes had as well. Plus, Sandra lost count of all the times she saved both of _their_ lives.

"Stop," Harrison suddenly said, his hand shooting out in front of Gretchen.

Everyone froze midstep, all of them eyeing Harrison.

Harrison pocketed his little book, adjusted his eye patch, and observed the swamp intensely, perking his ears. The only source of light was from Sandra's Pip-Boy, and in the surrounding trees and vines, there was only darkness.

"What's-?" Gretchen began, but Harrison shushed her.

"Listen," Harrison whispered faintly.

Everyone's eyes skimmed over the swamp warily. Sandra's heart began to race, thumping madly behind her ribs, her hands coiling tightly around Charon's gun.

Then, she heard it.

Somewhere off in the distance, ever so faintly, they all heard it; a rumble, a low, raspy rumbling noise. It wasn't thunder or lightning. No, it sounded... congested, like the sound of a massive, monstrous creature, clearing its enormous throat.

Jerry's legs began to tremble. "I... think I just shit myself."

"Nobody panic, okay?" Gretchen advised. "There used to be all kinds of wild dogs in the swamp. Let's just keep moving."

Sandra gulped, her eyes jumping between the trees and waiting for something to spring out. The others began walking again, but Sandra stayed rooted to the spot.

If only for a moment, Sandra could've sworn that she saw a living bobblehead, poking its head out from behind a nearby tree, pointing and smirking at her.

"Still can't tell reality from fantasy? And you're _how_ old now?" the bobblehead snarked. "You should take your Legion friend's advice, kiddo. You should _really_ learn to let things go."

"Sandra?" Arcade said, snapping her back into reality.

Sandra blinked. There were no bobbleheads, no blue trees, and no monsters, only Arcade, standing in front of her and waiting for her to join the group.

Arcade squinted curiously at her. "Something wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Just stay with me," Sandra said, not knowing why she said this and not caring. She grasped his hand and held it tight, using her other arm to cradle Charon's shotgun. "Just stay with me. Both of you, just... stay with me."

"Okay... not like I was planning on going anywhere," Arcade replied, adjusting his glasses as Sandra dragged him toward the group. "You're... um... acting a bit strange. What's the matter?"

"Doesn't make sense," Sandra rambled under her breath, yanking Arcade along behind her mindlessly. "No, because... last time, there was punga gas... but this time... there's nothing... why am I seeing... why am I seeing them...?"

"Sandra!" Arcade jerked her to a stop and spun her around. "Tell me what's wrong. You're acting erratically. More so than usual, and that's saying something."

"It's just like... when I left home," Sandra gulped. "When I went west, I saw Charon, even though he was dead... and... in the slave camp, I saw him there too... but now it's... now it's..."

"What... are you seeing things?" Arcade asked. "Sandra, it's just because you're scared. If you get your fear under control, it'll go away. You never have this problem unless you're in a drastic situation and scared for your life. Have you noticed that? It comes from fear. Just calm down."

He placed his hands on her shoulders, giving her a long, calming stare.

"Just... breathe," he said softly.

Sandra took in a deep, shaking breath, trying to force herself into some sense of composure.

"That's it... there you go," Arcade said smoothly. "Better?"

"Yeah, just... just stay with me," Sandra replied, clutching the shotgun even tighter.

"I'm not going anywhere," Arcade assured, patting her on the back. "Come on. Let's catch up. We're falling behind."

The two of them approached the group from behind, following them through a clearing of water. Everyone stepped into the swamp ankle-deep, wading through the water toward another patch of land.

"All right... we're almost there now," Gretchen announced. "Everyone, just stay calm and press on. Not much farther."

Grady clung to his sister's side, staring down at the water and looking worried.

As the group crossed the water, Sandra's hand remained clamped tightly around Arcade's with a viselike grip, trying her damnedest not to let the fear sweep over her again, embracing the shotgun as she walked.

At last, they reached the land, stopping near the decimated remains of an old pre-war house.

"This is..." Gretchen murmured. "Wait... this isn't..."

"Oh, don't _tell_ me you got us lost out here," Emily snapped. "You're supposed to know where you're going!"

"I do," Gretchen said, though her tone sounded anything but convincing. "I guess I went a bit too north and not enough west. Don't worry, we'll get th-"

Another rumbling roar echoed throughout the swamp, this time sounding dangerously close.

Grady shrieked and snapped his arms around Vandal, who was barking like mad. Emily and Harrison readied their guns.

Everyone was looking in all directions, trying to discern where the noise had come from.

Sandra's heart might've stopped. She stumbled away from the swamp, expecting a mirelurk to burst from the water, but none did.

Arcade stood by her side as the two of them scanned the forest, waiting for something to appear.

" _Now_ do you believe that your precious home is screwed up?!" Emily snarled at Gretchen.

Gretchen gaped into the darkness, speechless. The hungry roaring echoed from the fog yet again.

"No, no, no, no..." Sandra panted, double-checking her gun and glimpsing frightfully around the swamp. "No, no, no... it can't... it can't..."

To her horror, the trees seemed to move, but not from a simple gust of wind; they heaved and shrank, heaved and shrank, inhaling, exhaling, fading blue.

"Stop it," Sandra scolded herself, punching her own forehead. "Not now. Not now. Not now..."

Nukacola Quantums rained from above, exploding on impact.

"No, no, no... not real... stop it... stop it...!"

She stepped back, holding up the shotgun and shaking her head, eyes filling with tears.

The roar bellowed through the forest louder than ever, making Grady erupt into sobs.

Hundreds of blue mirelurks rose from the water, one of them holding a radio. Sandra, trembling and petrified, narrowed her eyes at the radio. It was an old-fashioned radio, pre-war. She'd seen it somewhere before.

 _"Has your life taken a turn? Well, come to the Sierra Madre, where anybody can begin again!"_ it broadcasted. _"Getting into trouble, starting anew, getting a fresh start on a brand new life? That's not the hard part. The hard part... is letting go."_

Letting go.

Yes, that was, indeed, the hard part. It was the hardest thing Sandra ever thought about doing. But why now? Why was this radio talking to her as if it knew her? Yes, letting go was hard... but letting go of what?

Then, she remembered something Vulpes said before they left the Mojave. He didn't believe that she had ever truly let go of anything, of her past, of her friends, of her father... or of anything going on in the Mojave. Perhaps he was right. After all, up until she met Niner and Arcade, Sandra was plagued by their voices, the voices of her friends from back east. They'd whisper to her when she was alone, or at night in her dreams, and she'd even reply to them. She'd envision Charon by her side whenever she felt afraid, and she spoke to him for years after his death. It was true; she never let go of anything, of anything she loved, of anything she lost, or of anything she feared.

Suddenly, the illusions dissipated. The blue mirelurks disappeared, as did the Sierra Madre broadcast, but the roaring continued. Sandra's hands shook, her gun held high and her heart thrashing behind her ribs.

"Stay with me," she muttered. "Stay with me, stay with me..."

It happened.

It exploded from the water like a volcano, its claws extending forever, its greenish, scaly skin shining beneath the dim moonlight, its soulless white eyes zeroing in on its prey. It looked almost like a deathclaw, but like none Sandra had ever seen before, green, wet, slimy, and twice the size of any deathclaw back home.

The monster slashed at the group, making everyone shriek in alarm.

"Fuck this!" Jerry cried, sprinting into the swamp.

"Jerry, get back here!" Gretchen cried.

The monster sliced at Emily, ripping her leather vest into shreds and tearing three gaping slashes into her abdomen.

A blinding blue light flashed before Emily's eyes; Vulpes struck the monster in the stomach, his displacer glove humming and shining like a star in the night. The monster stepped back and yowled furiously.

"Well, don't just lie there!" Vulpes shouted at Emily. "Move it, woman! Back away!"

Emily scurried to her feet, clasping a hand over the blood pouring down her side. Harrison and Gretchen opened fire, though their bullets only seemed to irritate the monster.

"Foxxy!"

Sandra shot the monster in the leg, making it rear back and howl, thoroughly enraged.

The monster set its demonic gaze on her, baring its teeth.

Sandra raised her gun. "Come on. Come get me."

The monster lumbered toward her haphazardly. Arcade and Sandra opened fire, 12 gauge rounds and blasts of tesla energy blasting chunks of scaly skin off the creature's rough exterior, but it didn't stop, or even slow down.

The monster swung its horrific claws, slashing both of them and knocking them into the water. The shotgun and the tesla rifle flew from their hands, Sandra's arm bleeding profusely, Arcade's chest sliced open.

The two of them lay in the water, sitting against the ridge along the water's edge, scurrying closer to each other as their clothes became saturated in mud, water, and blood. Sandra's eyes darted around, seeing her combat shotgun laying up on land, close to Grady's feet, but far from her reach.

The monster towered over them, preparing for the final blow.

Suddenly, Sandra became blinded by the swamp, the blue trees, the laughing bobbleheads, the exploding Nukacolas, the glowing blue mirelurks. Her mind raced and her heart was trying to pummel its way out of her chest. She cried, shaking her head and trying to wish it all away, but it was no use.

Something landed on top of her.

Arcade threw himself over her, his arms wrapped around her and his back facing the creature. He snapped his eyes shut, bracing himself for what came next-

BANG.

Blood rained across the swamp, the massive green skull erupting in a shower of gore and bone. One of its horns landed a few feet away from Grady, making him squeal and scramble away. The monstrous body of the beast wavered, stumbling backward and landing hard in the swamp with a loud, rough SPLASH.

Arcade forced his eyes open, peering over his shoulder. Someone managed to get a headshot, just in the nick of time.

He looked down, his nose brushing against Sandra's. The two of them were soaked to the bone, Arcade still lying on top of her.

"S-sorry," he laughed. "We... we've gotta stop meeting like this."

Sandra tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob. She bit her lip, still trembling all over.

"I..." Sandra sputtered, trying to force down tears. "I... fucking hate swamps."

"I gathered," Arcade said, sitting upright. "Are you all right?"

Just when Arcade moved to stand, Sandra grabbed his coat and yanked him back down, coiling her arms around him.

"Stay with me," she uttered. "Please..."

Arcade was taken aback, but he returned the embrace and held her, kneeling in the filthy water. Sandra laid her head on his chest, not caring that his blood was smearing across her cheek. Arcade felt her shaking, and he glimpsed down at her, wearing a concerned visage.

Many times before, Sandra had issues dealing with her past, but this was different. Arcade knew - not just as a friend, but as a doctor - that something was severely skewing her sense of reality, and it had something to do with this swamp. From a psychological standpoint, Arcade suspected that she might've been directly reliving a trauma. What must've happened to her back east, he wondered?

"What in the hell are you folks doing out here?" came a stranger's voice. It sounded like an older gentleman, though almost nobody recognized the voice, nobody except for Gretchen.

"Grandpaw Eddie?" Gretchen said, staring down the hill.

Everyone spun around, watching as an old man marched up the hill, carrying a rather large shotgun. He wore a pair of overhauls and a large hat, and his wrinkled face looked as intense as Harrison's.

"Gretchen?" old man Eddie said, his eyes widening.

"Oh, good, you got your little family reunion," Emily snarked, wincing. "And all it cost was us almost getting slaughtered. And Jerry's probably dead too, let's not forget."

"Hush," Harrison scolded. Emily scowled at him.

"Grandpaw Eddie, what happened to this place?" Gretchen asked.

"This ain't the place to talk," Eddie replied. "Come on, you all. Let's get back to the house... before more of 'em show up."

No one argued. They all grouped up and began to follow Eddie down the hill. Vulpes stopped at the water's edge, waiting for Sandra and Arcade to follow.

"Come on," Arcade said gently, pulling Sandra to her feet. "Let's get inside, away from all this."

"You... you're out of your mind," Sandra choked, wiping her face. "You could've just gotten out of the way..."

"What're you talking about?"

"The monster," Sandra said. "You jumped right in front of it. Are you crazy?"

"Hm. Evidently I am," Arcade shrugged. "I suppose you're rubbing off on me. Come on, now. It's not safe out here."

They collected their weapons and followed the others down the hill, Sandra trying to stop her hands from shaking. As they walked, Sandra felt as if she was living a dream, perhaps another hallucination. She could hardly process everything that had happened. But oddly, it wasn't the monster that haunted her now; it was the voice from the imaginary radio, playing on repeat and echoing inside her skull.

 _The hard part... is letting go._


	15. To Reflect, Connect, & Conspire

Gretchen's family home looked awfully similar to the Calvert Mansion back in Point Lookout.

It was as spacious as it was elegant, spotless without a hint of wasteland wear. The group marched inside and stopped in the enormous room, a mounted and stuffed brahmin head hovering over the doorway, two staircases winding along the walls on either side, a fireplace beside one of them, and numerous hallways leading to God knows where.

Why, Sandra thought dreadfully, glaring around at the interior of the enormous home. Why did it have to look so much like the Calvert Mansion? It was as if she'd fallen back in time, landing in one of her worst memories...

Sandra shook the thought away and turned to Emily. "Jerry's still out there. Shouldn't we...?"

"No," Emily said straight away. "It's way too dangerous, and I am _not_ going back out there and getting eaten. Jerry shouldn't have run off. Whatever happened to him... it's on him."

Sandra frowned.

Gretchen's grandparents stood before the group, Grandpaw Eddie still holding his shotgun. He was a stern and stable old man, probably a hunter in his younger days, and his wife was a frail, graying old woman with a wrinkled, care-worn face.

"Grandmaw, Grandpaw," Gretchen said exasperatedly, swiping her damp bangs from her eyes. "It's... good to finally see you again. Where's Mom? And Liliana?"

"Oh, your momma's upstairs with her paintings," Grandmaw Rose told her. "She's always up there workin' on them paintings..."

Grandpaw Eddie coughed, stepping forward and speaking to Gretchen directly. "Your grandmaw's mind is starting to go. I'm sorry, Gretchen... your mother passed away a couple of years back."

Gretchen's exhausted smile vanished without a trace. Grady's eyes widened, his mouth falling open.

"Oh, Eddie!" Grandmaw Rose exclaimed. "How could you say such a thing about your own daughter?"

Grandpaw Eddie didn't reply to her.

"Ya'll can make yourselves comfortable, find a room to relax in. Rose is gonna whip up some gumbo for supper. I 'preciate ya'll keeping my grandkids safe out there."

"Grandpaw... what happened to this place?" Gretchen asked. "Why're there deathclaws in the swamp? When did that happen? And what's with all the fog?"

"Later," Grandpaw Eddie responded. "We'll discuss it later, Gretch. All of you... just come inside and try to wind down. Feel free to take a shower, dry your clothes, whatever you need to do."

The others made their way through the mansion, Harrison sitting on the stairs and flipping out his old book. Emily went to the dining room, Grady sat in front of the fireplace, and Gretchen headed to the kitchen. Grandpaw Eddie locked the front door behind them. Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes stood stock still for a moment, not knowing where to go from here.

"Well," Arcade said, gazing up at the chandelier that hung from above. "It's certainly big enough, but look at the location."

Sandra and Vulpes stared blankly at him.

Arcade blinked. "Sorry. I thought it was a fitting joke. We are looking for a new place to live, after all..."

"I think I have to go back out," Sandra mumbled. "Jerry is..."

"We barely escaped death out there," Arcade told her. "I feel bad for Jerry, but... if we go back out there, we might not be lucky enough to get out alive again. We need to stay put. _All_ of us."

"Agreed. We've done more than enough for these people," Vulpes added. "I'm certainly not dying for any of them."

Sandra sighed, sparing a moment to feel guilty about Jerry. Then, another thought occurred to her.

"Guys," she said, glimpsing between them. "Do either of you know what the hell gumbo is?"

Vulpes looked lost. Arcade simply shrugged.

"What kind of swamp is this?" Sandra mumbled, leading the two of them toward the kitchen. "I thought we'd get to have mirelurk cakes..."

"What is your obsession with fashioning beasts into cakes?" Vulpes asked. "You only need to cook the meat to eat it. No use dressing it up in a fancy blanket of bread and spices..."

Arcade narrowed his eyes at Vulpes. "You're an incredibly simple individual, aren't you? Can't comprehend the idea of actually cooking a meal instead of scarfing down meat like a savage..."

Grandmaw Rose was standing at the kitchen counter, stirring a rather large pot of lumpy, mysterious liquid, which Sandra assumed must have been gumbo. Gretchen was sitting at the kitchen table, watching her grandmother thoughtfully. Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes sat at the table with her.

"Grandmaw..." Gretchen said. "Do you know where Liliana is?"

"Who now?" Grandmaw Rose asked, stirring the gumbo and smiling thoughtlessly. "I... sorry, dear. Who is Li'ana again?"

"My sister. My older sister? Do you know where she is?"

"Oh, well... you know, I can't remember. You should ask your grandpaw, dear. I'm sure he knows where Leland ran off to."

"Um... okay. Never mind. Um... do you have any caps? Or, maybe my old piggy bank? I kinda have to pay off the help."

"Oh, Gretchen... have you gotten yourself into a predicament again? Your momma isn't gonna like this. Why don't you go and ask her if she has any spare money, dear? She's upstairs workin' on her paintings."

"Oh... um... okay."

Gretchen frowned at her lap. Sandra surveyed Grandmaw Rose from behind; clearly, this woman was suffering from severe memory loss. Dementia, perhaps. Or worse.

"So..." Sandra muttered, wiping some of the swamp sludge off her arm. "Deathclaws, huh?"

Gretchen sighed. "I'm sorry. I really thought it would be an easy walk. This place was nothing like this when I left. I should've listened to you..."

"Nah," Sandra said dismissively. "I didn't know there'd be swamp deathclaws here. The only reason I freaked out was because my last experience in a swamp was... really not good."

Gretchen nodded. "So... Grady really seems to look up to you. You gonna stick around for a while?"

"I planned on it, but..." Sandra started, trailing off. She wanted to find a new life for herself and her friends, but this place wasn't what she expected; it almost felt like a resurrected memory, another Point Lookout, only worse, even more dangerous. She couldn't start a new life in a place like this. Could she?

"I don't know," Sandra said honestly. "I really don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Gretchen wondered, trading eyes with all three of them. "You guys... why did you choose to leave the Mojave?"

"Because you gave us a job," Sandra said simply.

"I've known you for a little while now, and I know there's more to it than that," Gretchen countered. "Come on. You guys were on your way out of town when we met. Why were you leaving your home?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me," Sandra offered.

Gretchen took a deep breath, glancing at her grandmother and frowning. "Well... I wanted adventure. I thought Vegas was the kind of place where you could live how you wanted without being judged. But... everything went to shit. I ended up losing almost everything, and... I don't know. In retrospect, I never should've left home. I have a tendency to do shit on impulse... y'know, doing reckless things without thinking first. I guess now I know better."

"I know how you feel," Sandra sighed. "You and I have a lot in common..."

"So?" Gretchen perked an eyebrow. "Your turn. Why'd you guys leave home?"

Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes exchanged glimpses.

"It's complicated," Sandra said. "But... I guess it can't hurt to tell you, now that we're a zillion miles away from Vegas. I was working for Mr. House, the guy who ran Vegas... then, me and my friends started running the show, and the NCR put bounties on our heads. They almost got us, too. I figured we should leave before our luck ran out."

Gretchen stared at her. "Wow... your life makes mine sound boring as fuck. I can't believe you had that much influence over Vegas."

"I didn't really. It was just a job," Sandra remarked. "But after a while, the money started running out, and people started targeting us... so, we ended up where we started. Traveling with no money... with bounty hunters coming after us added on. It didn't seem like it was worth staying."

"So... I left looking for adventure, and you left to get away from it," Gretchen synopsized. "I was looking for excitement and you were looking for peace. That sound about right?"

"Pretty much."

"Well... I'd say you came to the right place, but obviously, things have changed here."

Gretchen stared sadly at the table, her eyes empty.

"I can't believe Mom's gone," she uttered. "I never should've left..."

"Hey." Sandra patted her on the arm. "That kind of stuff happens all the time. I know that won't make you feel better, but... don't go blaming yourself for wanting to find a life outside of this place. It's just shitty luck. Trust me... my father didn't have to die, either, but luck just wasn't on his side. Shit just happens... be we can all move on. We learn to let go eventually."

Sandra felt like a hypocrite as she said this, but Gretchen seemed comforted by her sentiment.

"Thanks," Gretchen smiled weakly. "I'll have to move on somehow. Gotta be strong for Grady..."

There was a pause.

"Well... I appreciate all the help, you guys," Gretchen told them. "I'm gonna tell you something... just because I think you have a right to know. If you choose to leave, there's a metro tunnel just outside of the town up north. I'm not sure how far it goes, or if the train even works... but it goes west toward Nevada. If you wanna go back, that tunnel would be your best bet. The power still works down there, so you won't be lost in the dark. I'm just letting you know so you can weigh your options. Okay?"

"Thanks," Sandra replied.

Gretchen surveyed her, forming a faint smirk. "My mom was a redhead, just like you. Grandmaw used to say redheads are as crazy as they are creative."

"Sounds about right," Sandra laughed.

"Well... you probably wanna wash up, right?" Gretchen asked, looking her up and down. "You guys are all soaking wet. You must be freezing."

"Yeah." Sandra nodded and stood. "Where can I hang my clothes up to dry?"

"Hang them up?" Gretchen laughed. "Girl, we _have_ a dryer, y'know. You're not in the wasteland anymore."

Sandra smiled, turning and preparing to explore the house in search of a bathroom. She stopped at the doorway, a heavenly scent slithering up her nose.

Sandra turned, eyeing the pot of mysterious food Grandmaw Rose was tending to. On impulse, Sandra crept closer, trying to steal a glimpse of the tasty-smelling food.

"Oh... Susan, please, give me a little space," Grandmaw Rose said, shooing Sandra away. "What're you doing downstairs before dinner? Did you finally finish that beautiful portrait you were workin' on?"

Sandra stared blankly at her. "Um... y-yeah, I finished it."

"Oh, wonderful," Grandmaw Rose beamed. "You'll have to show it to me first thing tomorrow morning. But, for right now, I've gotta finish supper for Gretchen and her friends. Go wait in the dining room, eager beaver."

Sandra made a strange face, looking to Gretchen and giving her a questioning stare.

"Susan was my mom's name," Gretchen explained. "Sorry. Grandmaw's memory seems..."

"Oh, it's okay," Sandra assured. "I'm gonna go find a shower."

Sandra and her friends spread across the house to find bathrooms. As Grandmaw Rose cooked supper for everyone, the others made themselves comfortable in the house, but even while Sandra was in the shower - the first working shower she'd used since Vault 101 - basking in the wonderful warm water caressing her body, she felt uneasy here, and she wasn't entirely sure why.

Perhaps she'd find out soon.

* * *

Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes used separate showers across the house.

When Vulpes was finished (after tinkering with the shower for ten minutes until he finally figured out how it worked), he stepped out of the steamy bathroom, his short black hair dripping wet and his skin, for the first time in a long time, free of dirt of grime. He flung a blue robe on, tying it shut and carrying his dirty suit out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam following him into the hallway.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, he was surprised to see Emily, leaning on the wall with her arms crossed and watching him curiously.

Vulpes stared at her. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to say thanks," Emily said. "I underestimated you. Apparently, you're a better fighter than me... even though you're a suit."

"Obviously," Vulpes replied snidely. "Don't think it was for your sake. I was hired to protect this pathetic group of reprobates. I was simply doing my job, nothing more."

"Yeah. I think the same way," Emily agreed. "Just a job. No attachments. Of course..."

She stepped closer, placing her hand on the wall and leaning close to Vulpes. Vulpes stepped away, his back against the wall as Emily's face came within inches of his.

"Sometimes, I wish I could make a connection... just on the fly," Emily whispered. "Just for fun. These kinds of jobs get lonely. Don't they?"

Vulpes blinked, his expression stony and unreadable. "I... suppose so."

Emily pressed her lips against his, and instantly, Vulpes's mind went blank. He lost himself in her; before either of them knew it, they were locked in the nearest bedroom.

No one noticed their disappearance. Grandmaw Rose had finished cooking her infamous gumbo, and everyone was seating themselves at in the dining room. It was a beautiful, spotless room that smelled of wool and tobacco. The table was as long as it was elegant, and there was more than enough room for everyone. Eddie and Rose sat at the head of the table together. The two of them were speaking with Gretchen and Grady, who were giving their grandparents an earful about everything they'd been through. Harrison was eating quietly at the center of the table, and Sandra and Arcade were sitting together on the farthest end by themselves, Arcade sipping on the gumbo slowly while Sandra practically inhaled hers. The two of them were completely clean now, all the dirt and swamp grime gone from them, their hair slick and damp from their showers.

"Are you... feeling any better now?" Arcade asked hesitantly after waiting for her to finish her second helping of gumbo.

Sandra cleared her throat and pushed the bowl away, her stomach full for the first time in months. "Yeah. More or less."

Arcade glimpsed at the other end of the table, where Gretchen was immersed in conversation with her family. He couldn't make out what they were saying; they were sitting several yards away.

"Is this it?" he said softly, giving Sandra a questioning look. "This place... is this really where we start our new life?"

Sandra blinked. "What're you asking me for?"

"Well, you brought us here," Arcade replied. "Obviously, this place isn't the glamorous paradise any of us expected. Not to mention, you... you really don't seem to get along well with the swamp. It's filled with monsters - that alone puts a damper on our plans - but on top of that, you have issues with places like this. Er... it seems that way, anyway..."

Sandra stared into her empty bowl.

Arcade observed her. "Can I ask?"

Sandra met his eyes. "Ask what?"

"Can I ask... what _happened_ to you?" Arcade finally inquired. "What is it with you and swamps?"

Sandra hesitated, glancing at Gretchen and the others briefly. "I'll tell you later... when we're alone."

"All right. I'll hold you to it," Arcade agreed, taking her bowl. "Do you want some more?"

"Sure," Sandra answered. Arcade stood and took her bowl back to the kitchen.

After he left, Sandra stood and claimed a seat closer to Gretchen and the others, hoping to listen to their conversation.

"I still don't get this, Grandpaw," Gretchen was saying. "I knew the old Sabre legend... but how did _so many_ of them end up out in the swamp? I didn't even think Sabres were real."

"You got it backwards, Gretch," Grandpaw Eddie replied. "The swamp deathclaws aren't _all_ Sabres. Sabre is _one_ deathclaw. Sabre was the first, the mother of all the swamp deathclaws. I guess she finally found some compatible monster to mate with. Before we knew it, the swampclaws were everywhere. They started breeding when the fog swept over the area. That's when everything... changed..."

Grandpaw Eddie glared into his gumbo, looking disturbed.

"Oh, Eddie, don't look so down in the dumps," Grandmaw Rose said sadly, looking to Sandra. "Susan, say somethin' to make your papa feel better. Maybe show him your newest painting in the works?"

Sandra gaped at her. "Um..."

"Grandmaw, that's not Susan. That's Sandra," Gretchen told her delicately. "Susan... my mom... she's gone, remember?"

Grandmaw Rose looked both befuddled and distraught, saying nothing. None of them noticed Vulpes and Emily slowly creeping into the room, each carrying two bowls of gumbo and trying to look as casual as possible.

Arcade returned with two full bowls of gumbo, placing one in front of Sandra. As they all ate their dinners, Grandpaw Eddie spoke again.

"Sabre is smarter than the other swampclaws," he said gravely. "She waits until you're alone. She waits until you step into the water by accident, and if you're alone... she'll drag you under and rip you to pieces. If you manage to dodge her by some miracle, she'll chase you until your legs give out. No matter how fast you move, how far you go... she never stops chasin' you until you're down for the count."

Grady whimpered. Gretchen gulped and looked away.

"She ain't afraid of nothing," Grandpaw Eddie murmured. "She'll rip through mirelurks by the dozens... tribals... hunters... anything. Anyone. She doesn't care."

"Tribals?" Gretchen asked. "Since when were there tribals around here?"

Grandpaw Eddie coughed loudly, clearing his throat. "Er... no, never mind that. As long as y'all stay inside, nothin' else is gonna happen. Eat up and head to bed, now."

Sandra and Arcade exchanged wary glances. Then, Sandra blinked, only just noticing that Vulpes had joined them for dinner, he and Emily nibbling on their gumbo in silence.

"Hey," Sandra whispered to Vulpes. "Where have you been?"

"Nothing," Vulpes said at once. "I mean... nowhere."

Sandra narrowed her eyes. "You look guilty. Did you do something wrong?"

"None of your business, woman! Stop hounding me!" Vulpes whisper-yelled. "Blast it, I'm tired of being around you and your nagging. I'm going to bed."

Vulpes upturned his bowl and guzzled the rest of his gumbo in seconds, then stood and marched out of the room. Emily averted her eyes as he passed by her.

Sandra and Arcade both watched him go, looking befuddled.

Within ten minutes or so, Sandra and Arcade finished the last of their gumbo as well. They said their goodnights to Gretchen and her family, and the two of them ventured upstairs, exploring the numerous rooms and hallways before settling on two empty bedrooms across from each other.

Sandra's room had a single clean bed and a dresser that once belonged to Gretchen's older sister. She stood in the doorway for a moment, lost in thought and staring at nothing in particular. When she turned, she saw that Arcade hadn't gone into his room yet. He was just as hesitant as her, staring at her and looking troubled.

Arcade followed her into the room, and she closed the door behind him, sitting on the bed beside him and wondering where to start. She knew he expected an explanation; she nearly broke down out in the swamp, and Arcade seemed determined to find out why.

So, Sandra took a deep breath and explained every detail of her experiences in Point Lookout. Some parts were difficult to tell, but she managed. When she finished, Arcade's expression was strewn with empathy and dismay.

"Jesus," he said. "That's horrible."

"It could've been worse if Charon wasn't there," Sandra replied grimly. "Being here feels the same..."

"I see," Arcade sighed. "It's trauma..."

"No, not completely," Sandra told him. "Part of it feels... it feels like I'm making the same mistake twice."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when we went to Point Lookout... I side-tracked from my obligations in the Capital. I was really happy to leave those problems behind, honestly. I ran from my problems, and... I almost died because of it. It feels the same this time. It feels like I ran from all my problems. It feels like... it's wrong to be here."

Arcade observed her. "Do you want to go back to the Mojave?"

Sandra let out a frustrated breath. "I think so. But we can't go back, can we? You guys have bounties on your heads, and..."

"We've been gone for months already," Arcade told her. "Who knows... maybe they gave up looking for us by now. Maybe we can live under the radar for a while. We can do some work for Randall, and we can just live like regular people for a bit."

Sandra pondered on this for several seconds.

"It can't be any more dangerous than this place, quite honestly," Arcade added. "This place is infested with mutated deathclaws. We might be much better off going back home."

"Yeah, that's true..."

"So, what's the verdict? Are we going back home?"

"Yeah, I think we should. I just feel bad, leaving Gretchen and Grady here in this deathclaw hellhole..."

"Yes, me too. But they have their family back, at least. They succeeded in returning home to their family, and that's a luxury most people aren't lucky enough to experience."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"We'll have to take a look at that metro tunnel Gretchen mentioned. There's no telling how far west it goes, but if it leads toward Nevada, it's our only option."

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Sandra. I'm right across the hall if you need me."

"Night, Arcade."

Arcade flashed her a weak smile before stepping out of the room and closing the door, leaving Sandra alone in the clean, lonesome bedroom. She crawled under the covers and cuddled up to Charon's shotgun, drifting into a restless sleep.

* * *

For the first time in weeks, Charon visited her in her dreams.

Sandra was standing beneath the Lucky 38 near sunset, admiring the dancing lights glowing up and down the tower. Charon stood beside her, his arms cross, his ghoulish face as blank and expressionless as she always remembered.

"Y'know, kid," Charon said. "Everyone's telling you t let things go... but there are some things you just can't let go of."

"Yeah, like you," Sandra agreed.

"No, not like me," Charon argued. "I'm dead. There's nothing you can do for me anymore. Getting hung up on me won't do you any good. I was talking about Vegas."

Sandra turned and faced him. "Vegas?"

"Yeah. You resolved everything in the Capital, remember?" Charon asked. "The war for Project Purity was won. I died. Everything came to a close. But Vegas is different. Nothing got resolved in Vegas. You started a bunch of projects and goals, and you left before you saw 'em through. That's why the swamp bothers you so much. That's why it bothered you so much in Point Lookout... and that's why it's bothering you again now."

Sandra stared longingly up at the tower, suddenly wishing she could feel the warm, dry embrace of the wasteland desert again. "It's dangerous. I'm worried about my friends. I don't want the same thing happening to them that happened to you."

"That ain't gonna happen, kid. Not as long as you learned your lesson in the Jefferson Memorial," Charon told her. "Don't leave them behind, and don't dive-bomb into a suicidal mission. Don't force them to do what I did. Don't force them to sacrifice themselves for you."

Sandra felt a pinch of guilt at hearing this. "God... I'm sorry, Charon."

"Ah, shut up," Charon growled. "I'm not lingering in your subconscious to hear you whine and wallow in the past. You've got a special way about you, y'know that? You make people want to fight for you. Don't waste that on stupidity and dumb bullshit. That's what gets your friends killed."

Sandra gaze sadly up at the penthouse. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to..."

"You are," Charon said flatly. "The only thing that makes you weak is when you're fucking doubting yourself all the time. Take your friends back home and keep them alive. You were a sheltered little kid last time you were in this situation - but now, you're an adult, and you've been around the block. If the NCR paints a target on you, you don't turn tail and run. You blow them off the face of the fucking planet - just like you did to the Enclave. Just like you did to the Legion in Denver. Because _that's_ who the fuck you are, Sandra. That's who you _really_ are."

Sandra felt a hot sensation rise inside her like water boiling over a pot. Yes - anyone who threatened her and her friends, she'd nuke into oblivion. When did that change? When did she decide to run rather than annihilating the people who dared cross her?

Thinking of the tower, the strip, the desert and the Mojave sunset, Sandra's heart ached. She never missed a place so much; she never missed Vault 101 like this, nor did she miss the Capital so much. The Mojave was the only place she felt at home, and she felt a powerful, overwhelming longing to return.

Just then, Sandra felt something slide out of her arms. She looked down, realizing that she was no longer carrying the combat shotgun.

"What...?" Sandra uttered. "Where'd it go?"

Charon eyed her gravely. "I think it's time for you to wake up, kid."

"What? Why? Why now?"

"This is the first lucid dream you've had in a while, right? I bet I know why. You felt pretty tired after eating that gumbo."

"Yeah, but I always feel tired after I eat a lot."

"Kid, you know what I'm getting at. Stop wasting time and wake up. You're running out of time."

"Charon, what're you talking about?"

Charon placed his hands on her shoulders, grasping her tightly and giving her a stern look. "Kid, what happened last time you were in a swamp?"

Sandra took a moment to think.

"I... was drugged," she said.

"Right," Charon nodded. "And it's happening again now. You and your friends ate gumbo, and all of you had seconds. They're in danger, kid. Don't let them die."

"Y-you're scaring me," Sandra stammered.

"Good. You should be scared!" Charon gave her a hard shake. "WAKE UP!"

Sandra jolted awake, feeling both alarmed and unfathomably sluggish. She tried to sit upright, but her body felt as heavy as a sack of bricks. For a moment, she stared up at the ceiling, panting as sweat crawled down her forehead.

She was alone in Gretchen's sister's old room, the window dark, the room silent. She couldn't hear anything in the hallway, or the rest of the house. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, yet still, she felt a knot forming in her stomach, as if something was amiss. Something was off.

After a few seconds, she summoned the strength to move, lifting her arms to embrace Charon's shotgun. She felt nothing; the shotgun was gone.

Sandra's heart gave a nervous thump. She forced herself upright, her head spinning like a tornado. It felt as if gravity was doubling down on her, trying to force her back into a laying position, but she fought it.

Her backpack was still lying against the bed, but her knives and gun belt were both gone. Someone had taken all her weapons while she was asleep.

Sandra staggered to her feet, the floor seeming to move beneath her. She slipped her backpack on and crept out the door, crossing the hall and stopping at Arcade's room. As slowly and quietly as possible, she twisted the knob and poked her head inside. The bed was messy, but the room was empty. Arcade was gone.

" _Shit_ ," Sandra spat.

 _Ch-Chk._

Sandra jumped, a jolt of fear shooting up her spine. Dizzy and terrified, she slowly turned to face the source of the noise.

Grandpaw Eddie stood at the end of the hall, shrouded in darkness and carrying his shotgun, his beady eyes sparkling ominously as they fixated on her.

Sandra glared furiously at him. "Where's my stuff? Where are my friends?"

"Don't worry 'bout them," Grandpaw Eddie replied, his voice low and distant. "I put your weapons away... just for security."

"Where are my friends?" Sandra asked again, stepping toward him and nearly falling, her head as light as a feather.

Grandpaw Eddie didn't answer right away. He released a long, regretful breath, raising his shotgun and frowning at her.

"Nothin' personal," he said. "Sorry... but it's you or me."


	16. The Escape from the Escape

_Sorry I've been MIA lately. I'm a published author now! If you'd like to see more of my work, check out my stories on Amazon. My name on Amazon is Samantha (Ginger) Branum. I've got a murder story, an apocalypse story (starring Fallout's own Sandra), and an American manga. There's a little something for everyone, and I could really use the support so I can continue to pump out content for ya. Now ring-a-ding-ding - let's continue the show!_

 _PS - This segment of the story is based on a Fallout New Vegas mod called Lost Lands. As much as I love the mod, I'm changing the ending from Cellblock Psycho's version for story purposes._

* * *

Sandra took a wary step back.

Eddie raised his shotgun, and Sandra suddenly found the strength to break into a run - she fumbled backward and scrambled around the corner, narrowly dodging a shotgun blast. Her head spun, her vision distorted; the laced gumbo left her sluggish and slow, but fear motivated her to move regardless.

She stumbled and fell, and she felt something whizz over her head on the way down. Sandra dove behind the corner before Eddie could fire off another shot. Just when she reached her feet, Eddie rounded the corner and fired; Sandra hit the ground again, this time on purpose. Eddie stopped to reload - then, Sandra barreled forward with the velocity of a freight train, her body colliding with his and sending them both crashing to the ground.

Sandra threw wild punches, possessed with adrenaline. When Eddie's lip busted, Sandra seized the shotgun, grabbing one of the bullets that had rolled across the floor, her shaking hands loading the gun with a single shot.

Eddie peered up at her, bloody and conflicted.

Sandra was using all her strength to hold the gun upright, feeling more disoriented than ever. "What the hell's going on? Where are my friends?"

Eddie let out a long, disdainful sigh. "Emily got away from me... ran off. Harrison... God rest his soul. The others... they're being purged."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It's... the only way Big Bayou will give Gretchen and Grady back..."

"What?"

"The tribal leader... the people who took over this place. They... they don't take well to outsiders. We have to cleanse the land of strangers, otherwise... we ain't welcome here."

"That's pretty fucked up, man."

"I had to... I had to give Gretchen and Grady to him. He has to meet them... to give them his approval... or else, they'd be marked for death."

"You gave your own grandchildren to the bad guys? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You don't understand, lil' lady. Sometimes... you have to play the risky move for the chance of the favorable outcome."

"That's a load of bullshit. There's nothing on this planet that would make me give Arcade and Vulpes up. If they're terrorizing you and everyone else, why the fuck are you playing his game? Just fight him."

"We ain't no match for them..."

"You could be if you used your head. I took on an entire military once, and I won. And I'm just a stupid kid. You're older and wiser than me. You could do _some_ thing."

"No... I can't. I'm just one man. If you expect me to fight an army alone, then you're just an ignorant little brat. You've no idea how complex and dangerous this situation is."

"Maybe I am, but at least I'm not an old fucking coward."

"Call me names all you want... it's over. The tribals broke the land, angered Sabre and her children. The tribals destroyed the community, and the swampclaws are destroying everyone... it's all over..."

"Maybe for you, but I've got a home to go back to. I'm done with this undercover conspiracy-fuck-all bullshit. Where are my friends?"

"Just... follow the basement. Your friends might still be alive. But you can't win against this whole thing, kid... you just can't..."

"Watch me."

Sandra aligned the shotgun with Eddie's head, and Eddie met her eyes, waiting for the blast.

"Get them out," he uttered, a crack in his voice. "Gretchen... Grady... please. Get them out."

Sandra gave him a firm nod, her eyes deadening. She took a deep breath, squeezed the trigger, and destroyed Grandpaw Eddie's skull. He was dead before his bloody body went motionless on the floorboards.

For a moment, she simply stared at him, trying to regain some composure as her mind ran rampant. Her friends were in danger - even hundreds of miles away from the Mojave, somehow, the wasteland found a way to threaten their lives. It seemed impossible to escape the danger. She came so far to escape from these situations, but now, she'd be forced to escape from her escape, to run from the place she absconded to. It felt like an endless cycle. Perhaps there was no way to avoid danger. Perhaps it would find her no matter where she went.

And if that was the case, there was no reason in the world why she shouldn't return to the Mojave.

Sandra knelt, her head going light, making her feel dangerously close to fainting. She rifled through Eddie's pockets, finding what remained of his ammunition as well as a set of keys. After sparing him a final glimpse, she marched down the hall and ventured downstairs, stopping at the basement door.

The door was locked, and near the knob were numerous small scratches. They weren't big enough to come from an animal - they were from the fingernails of people, whoever Eddie and Rose kidnapped and forced into the basement against their will. Sandra glared at the marks, wondering how many people were sacrificed before she and her friends. She inserted the keys and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

It was as ordinary as any basement, with the exception of the gaping hole in the back wall. Beyond it was a cavern, a cave leading to God-knows-where. Sandra stepped through the opening, inching down the cave until she spotted a faint light up ahead.

Before her was another opening, leading to a wide-open space in the cavern. There was a body of water, and in the center was a small plot of land. There were poles and vines hanging above the island, and Grandmaw Rose stood there, carving a large husk of meat on a metal table. The island was connected to the rest of the cavern by a small, narrow pathway made of sopping wet dirt.

Sandra squinted at the old woman. She was still wearing her light pink dress decorated in flowers, looking as innocent as ever - but Sandra knew for certain that she was carving a human being. Rose didn't seem disturbed at all; she was working as casually as she had been when making her gumbo dinner.

"These people are fucking nuts," Sandra mumbled, shaking her head and heading onward.

She circled around, following the thin muddy pathway to the island. Rose looked up, meeting Sandra's eyes and raising her enormous meat cleaver.

"Oh... I see you woke up a lil' earlier than you should've," Rose said. "Eddie was just goin' to wake you."

"What's going on? Why are you doing everything the tribals tell you?" Sandra inquired. "Are you... _eating_ these people?"

Rose merely stared at her for a moment. "No, no, hun... we ain't eating them. We're feedin' them to the land. Keeps Sabre's babies away from the house, keeps Bayou happy... and we can live in peace."

"You call this peace?" Sandra choked, covering her nose and staring at the mutilated body on the table. "This is fucking horrible."

Rose made a move Sandra wasn't expecting - the old woman grabbed the barrel of the shotgun, pushing it aside and holding the meat cleaver to Sandra's throat.

Sandra blinked. The old woman's eyes were glistening, watery and torn. She didn't seem to enjoy what she was doing. Either that, or her memory loss was taking a toll on her, trapping her in another wave of confusion and displacement.

Sandra sparked an idea. She made a pleading face, trying her best to look innocent and frightened. "You wouldn't hurt me... would you, Mommy?"

Rose's eyes widened, her mouth falling open, her expression strewn with empathy and despair. "Oh, Susan... I'm so sorry, dear. I... I thought you were somebody else, I... are you done with your painting of the house?"

Sandra attempted a smile. "Yeah. I finished it. I'm gonna hang it over your bed, Mommy. I think you should have it."

Rose's mouth stretched into a wrinkled, overjoyed smile. "You are just the sweetest thing, Susan. Oh, I love you so much..."

"I love you too, Mommy."

Rose lowered the cleaver slightly, glimpsing around, suddenly looking lost. "Oh, hun, I just... I can't remember what... I was doing. Eddie... where's Eddie?"

"He's behind you," Sandra told her. "He's gonna take you to bed now, Mommy. Everything's gonna be okay."

"But... I have to finish making dinner, Susan. Gumbo's your favorite..."

"I already ate, Mommy. Everything's fine now. Just go to bed... and when you wake up tomorrow, the new painting is gonna be up over your bed."

"You're such a good girl, Susan. Okay... I'm off to bed, now. Nighty night, sweetheart. Mommy loves you."

"Love you too."

Rose turned, expecting to see Eddie behind her. Sandra gulped, pressing the barrel of the shotgun into her head and pulling the trigger, the recoil kicking her harshly. Rose's head exploded into a mess of blood and bone, her body falling limply into the swampy water.

Sandra stared at her floating corpse for a moment, an uncomfortable knot forming in her stomach. She'd killed many people, but this murder left her feeling unusually remorseful. Still... it couldn't be helped. Rose was clearly out of her mind, and she was helping some gaggle of psychotic tribals to kidnap and murder innocent people. She had to be dealt with, just like Eddie. That was the long and short of it.

Slowly, Sandra inched closer to the table, clasping a hand over her face to block the horrid smell. The body had been chopped, sliced, and butchered beyond recognition - but she spotted something under the table, a small book tucked under one of the severed old hands. She remembered old man Harrison reading a tiny book like that...

Stifling a growing sickness, Sandra backed away from the desecrated remains of Harrison, turning and surveying the cavern. There were two visible openings; one of them led back to the basement, and the other was directly across from her, leading to a spacious enclosure.

Sandra stepped into the enclosure. There was a shelf full of random items against the rocky wall, and beside it was an enormous trunk. There were numerous tables covered with blood and carving tools, and there were three deep freezers placed near the tables, but her friends were nowhere to be seen.

"Fuck," Sandra uttered. She approached the trunk and tried all of Eddie's keys on the lock until the padlock popped off. When she opened it, she found her weapons - Charon's shotgun sitting on top of an overstuffed satchel of plasma grenades. Beneath her weapons were a gun and a power-fist - a heavily-modified tesla rifle with a written label reading _Ad Meloria_ , and the displacer glove Sandra had given Vulpes, engraved with _Ad Victorium_.

Sandra glimpsed around again, seeing no people or movement. If Arcade and Vulpes's weapons were here, then where could they be? There weren't any other caverns or enclosed spaces down here. Where could Eddie have imprisoned them?

Unless they were already...

"No." Sandra shook her head.

They couldn't be dead - Rose hadn't finished carving up Harrison, and Eddie said Arcade and Vulpes might still be alive. Presumably, Rose was going to carve up Arcade and Vulpes once she was finished with Harrison - but if that was the case, Arcade and Vulpes would be stashed nearby. Right?

Sandra glanced around numerous times, growing frustrated. Then, her eyes fell on one of the deep freezers, her heart sinking into her stomach like an anchor. Suddenly, she found herself thinking of Andale in the Capital - she, Charon, and Bryan once arrived in one of the friendliest neighborhoods ever, and Sandra stumbled upon fridges full of human meat while trying to steal from their stored foods. Anyone who harvested human meat would have to preserve it, just like any other hunters - and Sandra couldn't help but notice a distinct lack of screaming coming from inside the freezers now.

Was she too late? Were Arcade and Vulpes gone for good, chopped into steaks and frozen on ice?

"No, no, no..." Sandra shook her head and backed away from the freezers, a slow panic rising inside her.

She couldn't bring herself to open the freezers - she'd find an unrecognizable husk inside, just like Harrison. Or, she'd find a lifeless body that had frozen to death. It would be just like the funeral after the battle for Project Purity, when Sandra stood over that coffin and stared emptily into Charon's lifeless corpse.

"Seriously," she heard Charon's voice speak from behind her, making her jump. "Grow a pair and look inside. They're gonna freeze to death if you don't."

Sandra turned, seeing her old friend standing over her. She knew better - she knew Charon was gone - but even now, after accepting his death and starting a new life, she could never bring herself to ignore him, even if he was nothing but a psychosis-induced ghost from the past.

Charon narrowed his milky eyes at her. "It drives you fucking nuts every time you see me. Don't it?"

Sandra gulped, slowly nodding.

"Then get your shit together and find your friends," Charon said bluntly. "The past doesn't haunt you when the present is there for you."

Instantly, the illusion vanished, and Sandra took in a steady breath, eyeing the freezers and trying to summon her nerve.

She approached the nearest one, trying Eddie's keys until one of them opened the padlock. Dreadfully, she lifted the freezer's lid, a gust of icy air breezing out. Someone was inside - a body, someone in a white coat who looked to be sleeping.

Sandra swallowed a gasp. Arcade lay unconscious in the freezer, his glasses fogged, his hair coated in a thin layer of shaved ice from the freezer walls. His arms were folded, his legs bent uncomfortably, as his tall body barely fit inside.

"Wake up!" Sandra screamed, smacking him across the face.

"Oh - shit - what?!" Arcade jolted awake, his glasses hanging halfway off. He peered up at her, his expression nothing short of astonished. "Sandra! Thank God, I thought they'd get to you too. God, I'm freezing! Come here!"

Arcade lumbered to his feet, snapping his arms around her and trapping her in a suffocating hug. Sandra's heart jumped into her throat, his skin icy to the touch.

"Sorry," he breathed. "You're warm... I'm freezing..."

Sandra returned the hug, feeling a massive wave of relief.

When they separated, they met eyes for a moment. Arcade let out a breathless laugh.

"Not the vacation we anticipated, is it?" Arcade smirked.

Sandra gave him a half-smile. "It never is."

Arcade stepped out of the freezer, straightening his glasses and cradling his arms, still shivering. "They took my tesla rifle while I was asleep. Otherwise, I might've been able to put up a fight, but... well, the drugs weren't working to my advantage. Some kind of sedative. Flavorless in the gumbo. Quite clever, if you think about it... but bad news for me and Vulpes. Oh, shit... Vulpes..."

Arcade spun around, eyeing the third freezer.

"Is he in there?" Sandra approached the freezer. "Is this the one they put him in?"

"I believe so," Arcade replied. "It's all a blur, but... Vulpes wasn't even fighting them. He was completely out cold, practically comatose."

Sandra quickly unlocked the padlock and threw it aside, popping the freezer open and seeing the suited frumentarius inside, arms and legs folded, his skin paler than death, his eyes closed.

"Wake up!" Sandra smacked him, but unlike Arcade, Vulpes gave no response.

Sandra traded frantic glimpses with Arcade.

"He's Legion," Arcade explained. "He comes from a tribe of people who swear against all chems. He's got no tolerance for the stuff. It took a bigger toll on him than either of us."

"Well, Niner taught me a trick or two - go get my stuff from that trunk." Sandra snapped and pointed to the trunk of belongings. "I'm gonna make a Denver-Triple-Dog, hold the steady. Foxxy needs a pick-me-up."

Arcade gave her a hesitant look. "Are you sure you want to give a trained killer a massive dose of violence-inducing drugs?"

"Yes, because it'll keep him alive and it'll help us fight our way outta here." Sandra yanked Vulpes up by the arms, dragging him out of the freezer and laying him on the dirty cavern ground.

Arcade brought her belongings over, and Sandra rolled up Vulpes's sleeve, setting his hat aside before digging through her chem stash. She experienced a phase when she first met Niner - a phase of carelessness, when she and him would indulge in drugs a bit too often. His favorite combination was called a Denver-Triple-Dog, and she remembered the first time she witnessed him taking it, during her first visit to the Novac motel. She remembered exactly what he said back then.

 _Jet to take you up, steady to bring you back down, then psycho just for the hell of it._

"We'll do it without the steady," Sandra decided, lining up the proper chems. "He doesn't need any more downers."

"Now, wait, hold on," Arcade responded. "I don't typically endorse the habits of junkies, but there's a reason they use the combinations they use. The steady keeps them level enough to endure the jet and the psycho both at once. Granted, combining all of them can result in heart failure, but taking double-doses of powerful stimulants is a sure-fire way of killing yourself. Vulpes can't handle that. He'll need the steady to level out the stimulants. It's the less-risky of the two options."

"Are you sure?" Sandra asked, growing impatient. "You have to be absolutely positive. I need to give him something right now."

"Yes - give him the Denver-Triple-Dog exactly how Niner made it," Arcade instructed. "Inject the stimulants first - they'll hit his system faster, and that'll wake him up - after that, the steady will level out the effects just the slightest bit. It's his best bet. Do it."

They kneeled over Vulpes, Sandra lining up the psycho needle, leaning on Vulpes's arm until the vein became visible. Steadily, she injected him - and moments later, Vulpes blinked, glaring up at her and giving her a bizarre look.

"What're you-?"

Sandra held the jet inhaler to his face, grasping his head and forcing the drugged air into his mouth. Vulpes coughed harshly and jerked away.

"Blast it, woman - what in the hell are you-"

Sandra planted her foot on his hand, pinning his arm to the ground and making him cringe. Lastly, she injected the steady just a hair from the psycho track.

" _Enough_!" Vulpes fought and broke away, fumbling to his feet and heaving rapid breaths. "What have you... what have you... _what have you done to me_? I feel... I feel..."

His breaths were faster than ever, slicing through his gritted teeth. He glanced around, placing a hand to his chest and looking - for the first time Sandra had ever seen - almost frightened.

Sandra watched interestedly, and Arcade folded his arms, observing Vulpes and wearing a coy smirk.

"God... if Niner was here to see this, it would make his day," Arcade laughed.

"Don't mock me, you wretched reprobate - _what have you done to me_?" Vulpes gasped.

"I believe it's called a trip." Arcade's smile grew. "Enjoy."

"You'll be fine," Sandra assured, separating all of their belongings into three piles. "I've had a Denver-Triple-Dog before. As long as you don't have a panic attack, you'll be fine. Here, put your glove on."

Sandra tried to hand the displacer glove to Vulpes, but Vulpes merely gawked at her, his visage a wild mixture of anger and fear.

"You've killed me," he uttered. "This profligate chemistry will end me. How _dare_ you-"

"How dare I what? Save your life?" Sandra snarked, placing the glove in his palms. "If Eddie and Rose didn't drug you already, I wouldn't have had to wake you up. Blame them, not me."

"They did _what_ -?

"We don't have time to talk about it. We have to find out where Bayou is keeping Gretchen and Grady. After that, we're out of here."

"Slow down," Arcade advised. "Who's Bayou? What happened to Gretchen and Grady?"

Sandra took a deep breath and explained everything she heard from Eddie and Rose.

Afterward, Arcade and Vulpes exchanged troubled faces, Vulpes still hyperventilating incensed breaths.

"You want to take on all the tribals?" Arcade asked. "We don't stand a chance against a whole tribe. Not alone."

Sandra looked down, realizing the same thing. Who else could help? Emily was gone, Harrison and Jerry were dead, and Gretchen's family were part of the problem before they died. There was no one left who could help. Except...

Except for another group in the swamp who wanted the tribals gone.

It was a wild idea - no, it was a _ridiculous_ idea, something even Sandra might not be able to pull off. But as reckless as it was, if anyone could make it work, Sandra could. These insane plans were a trademark of hers, after all.

"You guys can go back to the boat." Sandra stood upright, strapping on her bags and lifting her shotgun. "I have a plan, but it's extremely dangerous. I'm gonna go out in the swamp and find Bayou's camp, and hopefully, I'll be followed."

"You _want_ to be followed?" Arcade took back, totally stunned. "Sandra, you remember what kind of beasts live in this swamp, don't you?"

"Yeah, and Eddie said they didn't start attacking people until the tribals arrived here," Sandra replied. "The swampclaws only got violent after the tribe came."

Arcade gaped at her, and Sandra returned his stare firmly. They both jumped; something shattered behind them, followed by a bright blue explosion.

When they turned, they spotted Vulpes standing over the bent and broken remains of the metal shelf, heaving furious breaths, his face fading scarlet.

"I am _so_ tired of this disgusting, mortifying, cesspool of _shit_!" Vulpes fumed heatedly. "That woman, her family, this tribe, the monsters... I don't care. I'm beyond caring. I want them all dead, and I will end every last one of them with the utmost of discrimination against all things impure. I _am_ the hand of Mars. I _am_ the hand of death. I _will_ end the dissolution, the broken, soiled, wretched beasts of burden. Nothing will stop me. _Nothing_."

Sandra and Arcade stared at him, swapping subtle glimpses.

"Ooo... kay," Arcade murmured. "Well, Sandra... you've got a one-man army backing you now. Tell me... does this plan involve you surviving?"

"That's the idea, hopefully," Sandra told him.

Arcade released a heavy breath. "All right, I'll defer to your judgment and I'll go with you... as long as you're as careful as possible. We don't need to die out there."

"Yes - let's kill them," Vulpes hissed wickedly. "Let's _kill them all_."

The three of them claimed all their belongings and followed the pathways out of the cavern, reaching the basement and returning to the house. They marched outside, entering the swamp, and they began to walk. Sandra wasn't sure how long it would take to find Big Bayou's camp, but hopefully, luck would be on her side.

As they waded the shallow waters and ventured through the craning branches and vines, Sandra felt oddly calm, not at all frightened or anxious. Suddenly, the swamp didn't feel like her enemy. No - her enemy was the tribe, the mysterious strangers who threatened her and her friends. That much was clear.

Though it was daytime, the swamp was shrouded in shadows and fog, and the sun barely helped their visibility. Arcade scanned over the environment as they walked, clinging to his tesla rifle tightly while Vulpes stormed loudly through the water, anxious to find and kill something.

Then, something came into view further down the swamp. It was a camp, an enormous one, some of the wooden buildings sitting on dry plots of land, connected by rickety bridges that spanned over the swamp water. Other buildings sat on the edge of the mountainside just beyond the heart of the tribal town. Sandra was able to see the silhouettes of tribals marching around the entrance, guarding their home.

Sandra stopped, holding out her arms and halting Arcade and Vulpes as well. "We can't go in yet."

"Why?" Arcade whispered. "What is your plan, anyway? Because I feel like human bait right now, and I don't like it."

Sandra heard a rustle behind them, followed by a low, rumbling growl.

She gulped, inhaled, and faced the creature behind them. The monster towered over them, its pine-green claws extending as its hands outstretched, its white, soulless eyes zeroing in on her. It was bigger than the other swampclaws, and its horns were massive, slicked back in a way Sandra had only ever seen once before, back in Quarry Junction when she and Vulpes were attacked by the mother deathclaw.

Vulpes raised his fist and Arcade held up his tesla rifle, both of them positively awe-stricken. Sandra waved them down, gazing up at the creature fearlessly. It was almost as if a spirit had possessed her, controlling her on autopilot, her fear having vanished without a trace.

And, strangely, the monster wasn't moving to attack. It merely stared down at them, almost as if it was investigating them, trying to determine their moves and motives.

Sandra felt like she was lost in a dream, her movements light, her paranoia gone. She slowly approached the monster, peering up at it and smiling.

"Sabre," she uttered. "You're the mother of all the swampclaws."

Sabre cocked her head, exhaling a putrid breath into Sandra's face.

"Do you understand me?" Sandra asked.

Sabre didn't reply, nor did she move to attack.

"Grady told me the legend," Sandra informed. "He said Sabre attacks all the hunters who aren't cautious. I think I know what that means now. Hunters who aren't cautious might shoot the wrong creature by accident - they might shoot your children instead of the mirelurks. Anyone who hurts your babies ends up on your death list."

Sabre crouched down on all fours, nearly smashing her jaw into Sandra's skull on the way down. Her two enormous hands made a couple of loud splashes in the water, and Sabre leaned forward, her forked tongue flickering out from between her terrifying teeth, licking Sandra's cheek.

"The tribals hurt your babies," Sandra told her. "They've hurt us, too. If you help us, we could take them all out. The swamp would be all yours."

Sabre continued to stare at her, and Sandra thought she spotted a hint of intrigue in Sabre's feral gaze.

"How...?" Vulpes exhaled.

"She's old," Arcade muttered. "She's a very old deathclaw. Deathclaws were originally experiments. Some could even talk. If she can understand human language, she must've been around for a very, _very_ long time. She was one of the first..."

"Just follow the light," Sandra suggested, pulling a plasma grenade from her bag. "You and your children will know where to go if you follow the green light."

Then, Sandra spun on her heel, marching toward the encampment with a pep in her step.

Arcade and Vulpes followed after her, and Sandra reared back, pitching the grenade as hard as she could. It bounced off the ground near the three tribal guards, and there was a fantastic green explosion, ripping the tribals to pieces.

Instantly, the tribals became alarmed; many of them began yelling in gibberish, and reinforcements flooded from the town, pitching spears and brandishing firearms. Sabre let out a horrendous growl, and she charged forward. A few of her children emerged from the trees, following their mother into battle.

Arcade shot Sandra a baffled look. "Was this your plan? To chat with a deathclaw? How did you know she'd understand you?"

"I didn't," Sandra shrugged. "I honestly thought the swampclaws would chase us, and we would run away and lead them into the town. After that, the swampclaws and the tribals would fight, and that would even out the battle for us."

Arcade's eyes narrowed. "So we _were_ human bait."

"Pretty much." Sandra checked her gun, then gave him a nod. "Ready? Let's go."


	17. New New Vegas

The battle was absolute chaos.

The tribals neglected to prioritize the three strangers sprinting through their home - Sabre and her swampclaws were storming the place, swiping, slashing, and gnawing on the tribals in their wake. The tribals were preoccupied with fending off the swampclaw attack. Sandra and Arcade didn't bother attacking unless one of the tribals drew too close. Vulpes, however, was on a spree.

"DEATH TO ALL THE IMPURE! DEATH TO ALL THE INFERIOR!"

Vulpes rampaged through crowds of tribals, one blast of blue light after another, limbs flying amok and tribals screaming in terror. Occasionally, Vulpes would be cut by a flying hatchet or a bullet grazing him, but he didn't seem to feel a thing.

"Wh-where are we going?" Arcade panted.

Sandra skidded to a stop, examining the larger buildings on the mountainside. Instantly, her eyes fell on the biggest of them all, the crookedly-shaped tower with illuminated windows.

"That one looks like the leader's place," Sandra said, pointing to the leaning tower. "Let's go!"

"FALSE TRIBES - FALSE PROPHETS - DIE, BY MARS, DIE!"

Vulpes flew out of the nearest squabble, an explosion of blue light in his wake. A tribal's arm snapped almost completely in half after Vulpes's leaping punch.

"Fucking - stay with us!" Sandra yanked Vulpes along behind her. "Don't get carried away! Come on!"

Vulpes snarled something in Latin, and the three of them headed toward the mountainside. Tribals were flooding from the mountain, screaming incomprehensibly and raising their weapons as they charged the swampclaws.

Growing short on breath, Sandra and her friends headed up winding walkways, occasionally intercepted by a tribal. Sandra and Arcade would try to shoot them down quickly - otherwise, Vulpes would leap between them and launch a deadly punch a bit too close.

Eventually, they reached the tower. The door was locked, but before Sandra could attempt to pick it, Vulpes smashed his fist into it. A burst of blue light nearly blinded her, and the door flew off its hinges. When they stepped inside, they entered an enormous room, a large red bed before them, followed by numerous tribal decorations and idols. Directly opposite them was a tall, elegant throne.

On the throne was an armored tribal. He wore an oddly elegant top hat and a pair of large reflective sunglasses.

"Who dares enter the threshold of God," the man said.

"You're Big Bayou?" Sandra muttered. "You don't look like anything special. What a let-down."

Bayou slowly stood, glaring heatedly down at her.

Sandra didn't register that the glare was meant to be intimidating. "So? Where's Gretchen and Grady? The girl and the kid from Eldrige Manor. I came to get them."

"Locked away until they're needed," Bayou mumbled ominously. "The girl is tainted... corrupted. She'll be used to feed the land... while the boy, still young and pure, will become my personal servant."

BANG.

Bayou's head exploded, his body rolling down the stairway almost comically.

Sandra cocked an eyebrow, lowering her shotgun. "I can't believe how easy that was. Usually, these people make me do a bunch of bitch work before I have a chance to shoot them."

"Shooting is faster," Arcade shrugged, digging through Bayou's pockets until he found a set of keys.

After a bit of searching, they found the hallway containing the jail cells. Grady was crying in the corner, and Gretchen was one cell over, sitting cross-legged and looking furious.

When she spotted Sandra, her eyes lit up. "Holy crap... how'd you get here?"

"Same way as always. I killed everything in the way," Sandra laughed, unlocking the cells and sliding the doors open. "Come on. Let's go back to the Mojave."

Grady snapped his arms around Sandra, squeezing her tight. He moved to Gretchen and clung onto her, Gretchen petting his head sadly.

"Go on," Gretchen muttered. "You go on without us. The Mojave is your home. Our place is here."

"What, are you serious?" Sandra gaped at her. "With all this crazy shit going on? You're really gonna stay here?"

"I'm assuming you had the same unfortunate experience with my grandparents I did," Gretchen muttered grimly. "Right?"

Sandra frowned. "Yeah. They're..."

"I don't blame you." Gretchen broke eye contact. "But... that means my family home is empty. I came here because I wanted to be home. This is where we belong. I'm... sorry it worked out this way. I know you thought it would be a peaceful land away from all the bullshit. I guess we're both disappointed."

Sandra sighed. "Please take care of yourself."

"You too," Grady mumbled shyly, peering up at her. "You guys be careful."

Sandra, Arcade, and Vulpes turned to leave. Then, Sandra stopped and faced them again, a thought occurring to her.

"Sabre only attacks people who hurt her children," Sandra told them. "She won't hurt you if you don't hurt them. Keep that in mind."

Gretchen and Grady nodded, both of them giving her a final wave.

"We need to get out of here before this streak of good luck runs out," Arcade advised. "And... before Vulpes kills everyone in the continental American south."

Sandra nodded, feeling strange. It was an accomplishment, saving Gretchen and Grady and bringing this tribe to its knees - but it didn't exactly feel like a victory. Perhaps if Gretchen came back home to the loving family she originally left behind, it would feel better.

Nevertheless, Sandra led her friends out of the tower, intent on reaching the metro tunnel.

New Vegas was waiting for her.

* * *

The tension in the air remained prominent in the Mojave during Sandra's absence.

The NCR Embassy was no longer occupied by NCR - instead, it was full of Veronica's supporters from the western Brotherhood and the friends Sarah managed to bring back from the Capital. The new Brotherhood were on fair terms with the New Vegas citizens. In fact, some of them had been elected as Vegas representatives, and they worked with the Brotherhood at the embassy.

Apart from the embassy's new inhabitants and the monorail being out of commission, the rest of the Mojave was more or less the same. The NCR was still a powerful presence, but their influence inside the Strip had virtually vanished.

The same day Sandra decided to return home, Sarah Lyons finally returned to the Lucky 38 after completing her recent duties. Niner and Raul were in the suite with Mr. Burke and Gob, all of them discussing the latest developments.

When Sarah walked in, she was accompanied by Bryan. Mr. Burke cocked an eyebrow at them.

"My, my... look who's among the living," Mr. Burke chuckled. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever come back."

"Elder McNamara finally agreed to support us fully," Sarah announced. "He knows the risks. And he knows that any Brotherhood branch who takes in Bryan and I will be targets of the eastern Brotherhood. We're dividing into separate entities, it seems. Besides... even if he didn't take Bryan and me in, he'd be in trouble if Maxson came knocking. Maxson would do to him what he's done to everyone else - kick down the door and take over."

"Maxson is in the Capital," Mr. Burke said. "What makes you so worried? Do you really think he'd come this far just to hunt you down?"

"Yes, because he told me." Sarah had a grim look about her. "When I was in DC, I was rallying my father and all of our friends. I managed to find supporters before Maxson returned to the Citadel, and he told me he'd make sure I went down in flames. I almost thought he was gonna open fire right then and there, but he knew better. If he acted out in front of everyone, he'd lose all his support. So... he kept his trigger finger intact, and we flew home. We've got a few vertibirds to spare now, by the way. They're behind the embassy."

"Excellent," Mr. Burke grinned.

"Everything in Freeside is going well. The Freedom Fighters are gone. The Kings made sure of that," Gob informed. "It's nice to be a bartender without owing a steep debt to anyone..."

"You guys haven't heard from Sandra?" Bryan asked hopefully. "At all?"

They all traded grave faces.

"I ain't seen her since she took Arcade and Vulpes out of Goodsprings," Niner sighed. "Sorry, kiddo. I dunno where they went, but I got the feeling they didn't wanna come back."

"She'll come back eventually." Raul was leaning on the wall nonchalantly, cleaning one of his revolvers. "She can't resist the drama here. We just have to keep the ball rolling until then."

"What about the war?" Sarah asked. "She's been gone for months, and the war is around the corner. What if she doesn't come back in time?"

"Then we'll have to win the war for her," Mr. Burke said conclusively. "We have the means, the firepower, the brains, everything. I'm confident in what we've accomplished here. Then, when she does eventually return, she'll have a home to come back to."

Sarah didn't seem convinced. "Maybe, but... Maxson is..."

"Sarah, why are you so worried about Maxson?" Mr. Burke asked, giving her an investigative squint. "We've got the NCR and the Legion to deal with here. We needn't concern ourselves with threats hundreds of miles away."

"But he's got the Prydwen," Sarah murmured, mostly to herself.

Mr. Burke examined her. "What?"

Sarah sighed and shook her head. "It's nothing. I'm just... overthinking the whole thing. I'm sure you're right."

Mr. Burke flashed his usual devilish smile.

"Don't you worry, my dear. Vegas is independent, and as long as I'm in this tower, it will remain so."

* * *

Thankfully, the train in the metro tunnel was still functional.

After tinkering with it for a while, Sandra made the train come to life. None of them knew how long they sat in the vehicle, the train whizzing through the tunnel at lightspeed as Arcade tended to Vulpes's numerous injuries. After the chems wore off, Vulpes collapsed on one of the seats, and Arcade went to work patching him up, deeming it easier to treat the wounded frumentarius while he was unconscious.

The train didn't take them straight to the Mojave. It screeched to a stop at a station just beyond Nipton. After a long night of sleep, the three of them departed the train, following Sandra's Pip-Boy toward the Mojave.

A strange sensation swept over her when she reached the top of a sandy hill, seeing the Lucky 38 off in the far distance. It was a peculiar feeling, something almost completely unfamiliar, something she hadn't felt since her days in vault 101. It was a sense of contentment, a sense of security.

It was the feeling of home.

"I had no idea how much I cared about this place," Sandra breathed, beaming as she wiped a string of sweat from her forehead.

"Absence... makes the heart... grow fonder..." Arcade panted, lumbering up the hill and hitting his knees. "Oh God, that's it... I need a break... goodnight..." He fell forward and face-planted in the desert sand.

Vulpes laughed. "That's what happens when you live a sheltered life. You grow weary easily. Get up, you spineless oaf. We're nearly there."

"No, wait... we should take a break," Sandra told him. "We need to figure out our plan from here. If the NCR is still after us, we probably shouldn't go straight back to Vegas. We might wanna avoid places like the Crimson Caravan, too. At least for a while."

"Sandra..." Arcade rolled over and stared up at her, one of his cheeks smeared with sand. "It's been months. I doubt they're still looking for us."

"I just wanna play it safe for a while," Sandra told him. "We need to gauge the Mojave... figure out what's changed. We need to get a good feel of the place before we make too many moves. I don't wanna mess this up."

"Then I suggest you find a way to make yourself important to the wasteland," Vulpes stated. "You need to be an important person, someone the Republic wouldn't want to target. You need to be valued by the communities without flaunting your original title. If Caesar wanted to survive in enemy territory, he wouldn't strut about boasting about being the God of the Legion. He would resort to his Followers ways and make himself useful to the community in some other fashion."

"Yes... buried in his Legion spy nonsense is a grain of truth," Arcade exhaled. "You might consider lending a helping hand to the NCR, Sandra. If not that, then the next best thing. Doing work the NCR would approve of."

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Sandra grumped. "How am I supposed to become an 'important person' if I'm not Courier Six of the Lucky 38? That's all I've got."

"Not exactly," Arcade replied. "Remember what we started right before we left?"

"What... hunting bounties?" Sandra muttered. "Yeah, so what?"

"So, we were working to clean up the community. Not to mention, I'm willing to bet most bounties in these parts are tied to the NCR in some form or another. The bounty outfit has to be on some kind of terms with the NCR. In fact, I bet the NCR places a few of the bounties Randall gives out. The longer we work for him, the more notoriety we'll gain, and we'll become a friend to the community without lording that 'capital of Vegas' stuff over people. I think we can become friends to the NCR that way, slowly but surely."

"And you've neglected the obvious flaw in your little take-over plan," Vulpes added. "Legionaries worship Caesar, and therefore, they enact his will without question. But many people in Vegas have no clue who you are. If you take over the Mojave, many of the people will have no reason to follow you. If you're a stranger to them, you'll have resistance after you take over."

"That's actually a good point," Arcade agreed. "We've done a lot for Freeside and the Strip, but beyond that, we're virtually unknown. The notoriety of bounty hunting could very well solve that problem, and depending on the connections we make, we might be able to solve our bout with the NCR as well."

"So... we have to start over," Sandra synopsized. "We have to start from scratch... like starting a new life."

"For now, yes," Arcade replied. "We have to reintegrate into society, and we'll do decent work in the name of refortifying an independent Vegas. It's a slow process, but it's the safest and most effective way. Between the three of us, we can manage it."

"Indeed... and we've no way of knowing how the Republic's influence on the Strip might have strengthened in our absence," Vulpes said. "Waltzing back to the 38 might be a death trap waiting to spring. It's safer if we make our return in a slower, more tactical way."

"Yes, we've been gone for months. The NCR might've taken over the entire Strip by now, for all we know." Arcade sat upright, releasing a sigh. "We should probably hit the nearest town and listen to the radio. We need an update on current events... God willing, we didn't miss any wars breaking out."

"I don't know where we're gonna stay," Sandra murmured, sitting on the hill and watching the city from afar. "If we can't go to the 38, and we don't have the bus... all we have it the Novac Motel, and that's assuming the town didn't decide to rent our room out, seeing as how we've been gone forever."

"So we're three nameless bounty hunters," Arcade determined. "Starting all over, new lives in New Vegas."

Sandra gave him an affirmative nod.

"Let's get back to work... now that we're home."


	18. (Author's Notes)

Hey hey, thanks for reading! Don't worry, this isn't the end of my Fallout adventure.

First - I'm in a difficult living situation and I'm focusing more on my original works now, which you can find on Amazon by searching Samantha (Ginger) Branum. You'll find more apocalyptic adventures, murder stories, and manga! I'm an author _and_ an artist. :) More to come soon! I really need the support, so go check 'em out! My fanfics are good venting stories, but my real talent goes into my original works (you can find Sandra there too, in my book _Doomsday by Design_ ).

Second - I don't have regular internet access anymore but I will continue this story. I've decided to split the final segment of the trilogy into segments. Clash of Two Wastelands will have at least two parts, maybe more. There are a lot of vanilla story segments, mods for the PC version of the game, and original content I wanna add to the story, and I feel I'll overload this story if I dump it all into one book. Stay tuned.

Third - If you want to see Sandra running around with Arcade, Vulpes, and others, check out my youtube channel Konspiracy (with the green gas mask) and have a look. You can find links to my books there, too. ^^

And finally, if you enjoy my stories - whether they're my fanfics or my works on amazon - please leave me a review, because reviews help tremendously! It's my absolute dream to have my stories become well-known, at least on a small level. Story telling is the one thing I'm driven to do!

So, check out my stuff on amazon and keep an eye out for Clash of Two Wastelands Part II. Ta-ta!


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